The Dark Backward of Time
by MikoNoNyte
Summary: Chapter 20: Final Chapter. Did we get a Happy Ending? You'll have to find out.
1. Default Chapter

Summary: Alice & Yuri visit Koudelka only to discover that Halley now looks like Yuri and there's a twin sister.  Ok, this is not good; especially when the next day dawns and Alice is dead, Yuri and Koudelka are living together and the sister is a fusionist!  Rated "R" for I don't know why – it just is!

Disclaimer: I do not own Koudelka or Shadow Hearts; for that matter I don't own the idea! Blame AriesCelestial!

Chapter 1

A/N:  Alice/Yuri Shippers beware! You'll hate me.  But flame away – we'll do S'Mores! 

            Alice and Yuri Hyuga pulled up to the old dilapidated house on Castle Street in London just as the sun fluttered briefly on the horizon and then sank into the waves. They had driven into London from St. Albans in Yuri's new car; a beat-up old Ford that the local garage-man had said wouldn't last a fortnight, but had now lasted nearly a year.  Night fell with a return to gloom and fog on these early fall evenings and Yuri put his coat around his wife's shoulders, eyeing the thin material of her own jacket with a jaundiced eye.  Yes, he liked her clothing; she bought beautiful dresses and jackets; but she refused to buy anything substantial, claiming the weight of the material was uncomfortable.  She had a point, at her soaking wet 110 pounds, she was very delicate; at least in appearance, and until one noticed the tell-tale bulge of her stomach.  Yuri Hyuga knew she was anything but delicate; however he liked thinking of her as his delicate flower, the woman he protected; the woman he loved, the woman who was carrying his baby. Finding a place park, they left beat-up Ford down the street and they crossed the bridge to Castle Street, pausing to watch the dark waters for a moment.

            "Now try not to get into it with Halley, Yuri," Alice said softly as they stood arm in arm watching the water flowing into and out of darkness beneath them.

            "What?  We only argue a little; he's like a younger brother," Yuri answered with a grin, remembering the last time they had supped together and he and Halley had gotten into a wrestling match on the floor.  It had started out as a contest of who's better and quickly escalated; Koudelka had thrown them both downstairs into the cold basement to work it off, telling them to burn off the excess energy in Sharon's pit fights.

            "Well, we did get a bit carried away, I'll admit," Yuri finally said, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.  "Okay, I promise."

            Alice smiled up at her husband and offered her lips, which Yuri obliged to cover with his own, one hand stroking down her side to rest on her distended stomach, fingers splayed across the growing expanse.

            'She's mine,' he thought even as she pulled away and, taking his arm once more, they continued across the bridge to the Iasant residence. 

            The old house had once been a grand dame, but the years had not been kind to her.  Two stories tall, with antique roof tiles and ornate window treatments; she would have looked elegant in her youthful days.  But now, aged and grey, dusty inside and out, the old house was on its last legs.  Why Koudelka insisted on living here, with the two children, as well as Chris and Halley, Yuri didn't understand.  There were so many better places to live, even he admitted that.  At least Halley had cleared the ground floor entrance.  Once boarded over and piled high with debris, there was now a brightly painted red door and a broken lantern at the stoop.  Feeble light came from the old light bulb in the lantern and the doorknocker, polished a bright brass, shown in its light.  Yuri chuckled to himself at the attempt to impress.

            He pounded on the front door, shaking dust and bugs from the doorframe, and Alice, standing behind him, coughed and swatted at him.

            "Must you, Yuri?  Why don't you just knock like everyone else?" she asked once she caught her breath.

            "Why?  I'm not everyone else and neither are you." That earned him a scrutinizing look from Alice but, rather than waste her breath, she let it pass with a shake of her head.  She knew which arguments she would win, and this wasn't one of them. 

            A few moments later, the door creaked inward and, down near the floor, a small brown haired girl stood, a stick in one hand and eyes wide with trepidation.

            "Uh-oh, it's you, U-uncle Yuri and Aunt Alice.  C-come in," she stuttered nervously and tossed aside the stick showing the two adults into the foyer.  A once red carpet led down the short hall to the family room, and the stairs, well lit with bulbs, showed the entrance to the basement where Sharon kept her Pit Fighting rink.  Yuri smiled with fondness for the little girl and her pit; she could summon some of the nastiest creatures in the world and Yuri loved fighting them.  He no longer did it for prize money or even rewards, but mainly for the fun of it.

            "Hey Sharon," Yuri said with a grin, gently tugging the young girl's pigtails.  "How's everyone doing?  Yer mum all right?"

            Sharon, eyes wide, nodded, pulled free of Yuri's playful tug, and slammed shut the front door.

            "Yup, e-everyone's okay.  Mummy's waiting in the dinning room.  S-she says to come on in."

            "All right," Yuri said, not noticing the girl's nervousness and, taking Alice's arm, escorted her down the hall, for once acting the true gentleman.

            Koudelka was seated at a long table comprised of two saw-horses and a plank.  The wooden plank was covered with a red cloth, and an ancient piece of lace was placed in the middle, nestling close to the candlesticks.  The dishes were mix and match with no two the same but they were clean and the silverware polished and there was even a nosegay of violets set in a glass by the plates for the guests.

            "Wow, pretty impressive," Yuri said to Alice.  "Well excuse me," he then added when a set of hands pushed him from behind forcing them both to step into the dinning room.

            "Sorry, gotta get in," a female voice said and Halley and a young female pushed through with the serving cart.  "Hey mom, I think Chris needs help with the stew, she says she burned it," the girl said and Koudelka, sighing, rose and left the dinning room.

            Yuri watched as Halley and the dark haired girl set about placing the tureens and bowls from the cart onto the table and he wondered who she was.

            'I thought Halley and Chris…' but then Halley turned and smiled at Alice, and Yuri frowned in confusion.  Halley's usually light brown hair was darker now, like he had dyed it and, on looking closer, Yuri realized the girl looked just like him.  Yuri blinked.

            "Yuri, glad you came. Sis will seat Alice," he said and then stared wide eyed.  "Whoa, yer preggers!"

            "That's pregnant and yes, Halley, I am," Alice said with a smile and let Katie take her to her seat. Yuri stared at the young girl, watching as she helped settle Alice with a pillow for her feet and then stayed to chatter softly with his wife.

            "You a… your sister?" Yuri blurted.

            Halley looked up at Yuri and chortled.  "Yeah, Katie's on her bests tonight, promise.  But you already know looks are deceiving," Halley said with pride and then pointed at the girl.  "But watch her 'round the silverware.  Piss her off and she's liable ta…"

            "I do not," Katie said, turning toward her brother and scowling, her dark eyes sparking a flicker of red in the irises.  Yuri's heart skipped a beat as he felt a pulse of energy from the young girl and felt a tug from his fusions.

            'Who the hell _is_ she?' he wondered but then joined Alice at the table.

            He continued to stare at young Katie throughout dinner, watching as the children passed bowls of vegetables and salad across the table even as Koudelka ladled out servings of stew into bowls that each passed down the line.  Once Alice got hers she immediately closed her hands over the food and said a quiet prayer and Yuri turned and whispered softly for her to say one for him too.

            Conversation was limited during dinner as the children were enthusiastic talkers, overrunning anyone else who wanted to speak.  Alice was content to speak with Chris on her right while Yuri was near to having whiplash from looking first at Halley on his left then to Katie next to Chris.  The resemblance between these two was uncanny and Yuri remembered thinking they might be twins when he first spotted her.  Indeed she had Halley's looks, right down to the upturned nose; but she also had dark hair, matching Halley who, as far as Yuri remembered, was a dirty blond to light brown.  And where had the sister come from?  He didn't recall Halley ever mentioning a sister, let alone a twin, when they traveled together last year.  But maybe in all the fuss, he had forgotten her.  But looking at the mirror image across the table Yuri didn't think so.

            Yuri tucked into his stew, watching Alice from the corner of his eye as she delicately scooped up a spoonful of stew, blew on it and then put a small amount in her mouth.  He mentally sighed, wondering if she'd ever put on enough weight for the baby, and then shrugged; of course she had, he mentally laughed at himself and then looked up to see the radishes rolling across the table from left to right and back in a zigzag pattern.  No one was moving them.

            He looked up suddenly and watched as the line of red radishes made the circuit of the table and stopped at Halley's plate where he stabbed one with his fork.

            "Thanks," he said to no one in particular.

            Yuri rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and looked around, pretending to stretch as he did so.  At the far end of the makeshift table sat Koudelka with Sharon and Joshua next to her.  The two youngest were playing war games with their mashed potatoes and peas, and Joshua had made a mashed potato fort and ran his gravy around the potatoes, spotting them with chunks of meat like rocks.  Sharon had made a well of her potatoes and filled it with gravy, making diving motions with her bits of carrots while the peas floated like swimmers in the brown liquid.

            Chris sitting next to Katie was frowning deeply, her eyes like beads watching everything Katie did, and Yuri wondered if Chris liked the other girl, as her expression was angry.  He was about to turn to Alice again when a cloth napkin walked across the table, dipped itself into Chris's gravy and then splotched it's way across the table to rise up and slap Halley in the face.  Halley grabbed the gravy-laden cloth and tossed it down the table toward Sharon and it landed with a plop in the gravy boat.

            Suddenly an argument broke out down the table and Joshua and Sharon were throwing food at each other, voices raised in childish ire.  Sharon's potato pool was flattened and gravy ran over her plate while Joshua's moat and potato castle wore carrot spears.  Halley sat laughing to himself at the antics and Katie – Yuri's jaw dropped as young Katie stood, hands on hips and frowned at the other children.  The frown was his own; the eyes, flaring amber then red, were his own.

            'How the hell does she look like me,' he thought, then gripped the table as she stomped one foot on the floor and the room suddenly erupted with silverware.  Knives, forks, spoons, ladles, empty glasses, half empty plates, the butcher knife from the kitchen, the chopping board as well were flying in the air above the table, circling like vultures over the table, the diners and especially Joshua and Sharon.

            "Make her stop, make her stop!" Sharon screamed and erupted into tears and with that the silverware, dishes and butcher block crashed to the makeshift table, piling high in the center and then falling to the floor as the wooden slab split in two and sent the rest of the dishes and plates crashing to the floor.  The dinning room was a disaster, food scattered and splattered everywhere and Alice and Yuri sat at their places, looking totally surprised.

            Halley, wearing the peas and potatoes in his lap, laughed heartily. 

            "Told ya she was mean!" he exclaimed and laughed the louder.

            "Am not!' Katie yelled even as Koudelka took Sharon's and Joshua's hands and led them from the room.

            "Are too!"

            "Please stop!" Alice cried in dismay, and Yuri leapt to his feet.

            "Shut the fuck up, both of you!  Clean up this goddamned mess and shut up!"

            Chris rose from her seat and took Alice's hand.  "Come on Auntie Alice, I'll take you upstairs; you can rest while _they_ clean up."

            "Hey! I didn't—" Halley began then stopped when Yuri's glare threatened to eat him alive.  "Okay, okay; but you know she's close to her first Trial.  You said so last week and you were gonna give her the big ugly guy," Halley said as he wiped the ruined food off his clothing and onto the destroyed table.

            "Her Trial?" Yuri asked turning back toward Katie who stood with her fists jammed against her legs, her whole body trembling.

            "Yeah, you said she was due soon; happens to Harmonixers and all.  You said you'd give her Death Emperor as her first fusion.  Don't you remember?"

            Yuri shook his head, puzzled and a little frightened.  He felt like he'd stepped from his normal life into – what, a nightmare?

            "Um, well, just clean up here Halley.  I'm gonna check on the kids and Koudelka."  He turned to stare a full minute at Katie before turning from the dining room. 

            Down the hall and in the kitchen Yuri could hear the sniffles of Sharon and the consoling voice of Joshua.  There were a few more coughing sneezes and a hiccup just as he entered and Sharon turned toward him, her deep brown eyes wide with fear.

            'No, no, keep him away; he's a bad man, a bad man," Sharon said as more tears burst from already tearstained eyes.

            "Wh-what did I do?" Yuri said surprised.

            "Just give us a minute will you Yuri," Koudelka said and turned Sharon back toward the sink and a hastily applied washcloth.

            Yuri watched the homey scene, wondering if he'd get the opportunity to apply a washcloth to his own child, and then mentally kicked himself: 'Of course I will; we're having a baby, dummy!'   Once finished, Sharon walked the long way around Yuri, forcing the young harmonixer to move out of the doorway to let her pass.

            "You'd think I was gonna eat her or something," he said.  "What did I do?"  Yuri pulled a stool out from the wall and sat down looking over at Koudelka's turned back.  She had returned to the sink and was placing the  remaining dishes into the waiting water.

            "You frighten her, Yuri, you know that," she said, not turning around.

            "Well I didn't used to.  Hell, she used to like me, just last year."

            Koudelka continued to place dishes into the sink and not answer.

            "Oh for Christ's sake will you turn around and talk to me!" he said, and left the stool to pull Koudelka around at the sink, pushing her back against the rim and looking down into her intense golden brown eyes.  "You all are acting really strange," he said, "and who the hell is Katie and why does Halley think she's his twin sister, and why haven't I seen her before?" he blurted out all at once.

            Koudelka looked up at him and her eyes sparkled with an inner light that made Yuri suddenly very nervous.  He pulled back and let her go.

            "Please, Koudelka, tell me.  What is going on?"

            "You don't remember do you?" she said softly. 

            "Remember what?"

            "Sixteen years ago."

            The fusionist scratched the back of his head and moved away from the sink, a puzzled frown creasing his brow.  "Sixteen years ago I was orphaned.  I haven't forgotten that."

            Koudelka took his hand in hers and guided him back to the stool before pulling another one out and sitting next to him, their backs to the kitchen doorway.  Behind them, they could hear the voices of Halley and Katie as they argued over the clean up; assorted thumps, clangs and bangs accompanying their jovial efforts.  Koudelka held Yuri's hand and looked down at the blunt fingers; it was a strong hand, with long fingers that wore minute scars and calluses from his fighting claws.

            "Tell me?" he asked her softly.  "Please?"

            There was silence for long minutes while Koudelka held his hand.  Then finally, "Do you remember being at Nemeton?" she asked.

            "Yeah, early last year when we fought Albert and rescued you," he said.

            A small smile crept onto her clean clear features, and Yuri noticed for the first time that she didn't have any wrinkles and wondered if she would give some of whatever she used to Alice - for later. 

            "Last year - but not sixteen years ago?"

            "I just said, I was in China sixteen years ago," he answered and pulled his hand from hers.  "What is this all about Koudelka?  Cut to the chase, eh?"

            Koudelka sighed.  "I suppose you don't remember because it hasn't happened for you yet," she said.

            "What hasn't?"

            Koudelka looked up at the tall man sitting on the stool next to her, her eyes taking in his still youthful face, the eyes that always teetered on the edge of reddish amber, and his strong, muscular physique - the same physique that had both frightened and intrigued her once upon a time.  "Nemeton Monastery."

             Yuri frowned as he looked down at the gypsy woman.  "You'll understand when I say yer fulla shit, Koudelka," he said gruffly.

            "No, Yuri," Koudelka said and climbed down from the stool, returning to the sink as Halley and Katie brought in an armload of remnants.  Yuri watched as the duo made a couple more trips, each time bringing smashed plates, cups, silverware, and finally the table cloth with the remaining food handing in it like a sling.  Yuri's stomach growled slightly as he watched them scrape the messy food into the bin.

            'Damn an' I'm still hungry,' he thought.  'What a waste.'

            Finally, the twins were done and Katie apologized to Koudelka then turned to Yuri, standing defiantly in front of him, her chin turned up and her eyes a mad mixture of dark brown turning to red.

            "Sorry, dad; it won't happen again," she said and Yuri could tell from her voice that she didn't mean a word of it, but he nodded dumbly and watched as they left the kitchen.

            "Dad?  What the fuck is that about?  She thinks I'm her old man!"

            "That's because you are," Koudelka said.

            Yuri felt like ice water had suddenly drenched him and he looked at Koudelka; she stood, her back to the sink and her head down, eyes looking at some spot on the dirty floor.

            "You damn well better explain that cuz you an' me never did nothin' Koudelka!" Yuri growled.

            "Yes we did; sixteen years ago, at Nemeton Monastery – the day after we defeated Elaine."

            "Fuck," Yuri said softly and then rose from the stool crossing the kitchen floor in three long strides.  "You ain't lying to me, are ya?" he asked.  "You really think we – "

            Koudelka nodded.  "It hasn't happened for you yet, but soon I think as you are noticing things you didn't before."

            "Huh?  What the fuck does that mean?"

            Koudelka shook her head and her pale reddish brown hair fell down around her cheeks.

            "Nothing.  Don't worry Yuri.  Everything will work out," she said.  "Why don't you go upstairs with Alice?  Good night," and she turned back to the sink, turning away from the questions she could not answer and the young man who asked them.

            "Wait, if I did something ..." he began and looked at Koudelka with confusion.  "How do I fix it?"

            "Is something broken?  Does it need fixing?"

            "I don't have any kids, 'cept for the one Alice and me are having."

            "Are you so sure of that, Yuri?" Koudelka said with a smile.  "Men often don't know if they aren't around."

            "Edward Plunket was Halley's dad, not me; and he didn't have a twin sister an' ... an' why does Sharon fear me for god's sake?"

            Koudelka sighed.  "You are a powerful man, Yuri, demanding; and not always the best father.  But you have tried.  Now go upstairs with Alice.  Good night."

            Confusion and anger warred inside for a moment then Yuri shrugged and turned from the kitchen, climbing the stairs to the second floor guest room.  He quietly opened the door in case Alice was asleep, peered into the darkened room, saw the mound in the middle of the bed, and knew she was bundled up in the linen. Alice complained of the cold and Yuri was hard-pressed to do much about it except offer his coat and cuddle her closer.  Of course, if she would wear more substantial outfits - ah, but Yuri liked the cuddle part so he remained silent on that issue.

            He quickly sloughed off his outer clothes and slid into the double bed, its lumpiness a welcome familiarity, having slept here often enough.  He moved closer to Alice and took her shoulder in his hand, gently pulling back to bring her within his arms.  She was cold.  He sighed softly as he breathed in the clean scent of her hair and the warmth of her breath.  Snuggling close, he let one hand wander down her side, gently caressing the soft roundness he encountered; there the gentle swelling of full breasts, then the curve of ribs to hips - and the little bulge that was the baby.  He let his hand splay open and cover her tummy, the roundness something he wasn't used to and the thought that they had made that little life together ... Yuri pulled her closer, pressing her back to his chest and letting his warmth envelope her.  She really did need more flesh on her bones he thought, and gently pinched a fingerful of flesh at her waist.  Well, maybe not too much, he thought and remembered the rounding of her hips, and how they were no longer perky, but did still swish in an enticing fashion.  He liked her backside, was used to walking behind her just to watch her perky behind in its flouncy skirts; but now, with the pregnancy...

            Yuri chuckled.  'She's becoming a wide load,' he thought and gently pinched the nipple of one breast.

            "Hmm?" What is it Yuri?" Alice asked sleep muddling her words and her thinking.

            Yuri smiled into her silver white hair and kissed her.

            "Nothing, just enjoying touching you.  You have love handles," he said, teasing.

            Alice stiffened a little in his embrace.  "I do not," she said, more awake.

            "Well, a little.  But that's all right; gives me more to love," and he kissed her to forestall her reaction.  "I think you are beautiful and I love handling you."

            Alice remained silent for a long minute before responding.  "If I weren't so warm and cozy, I'd swat you, Yuri.  But I won't, because I am; and I love you."

            "Ore mo," he said softly and putting his arms around her, closed his eyes for sleep.

            Yuri stood in the darkened room, his amber eyes squinting to adjust to the dim light from outside.  One of the street lamps was flickering and it played, casting shadow enemies on the faded bedroom curtains.  He scratched his head, wondering why he'd gotten out of bed.  He looked back at the double bed and the mound that was his pregnant wife, a grin making its way from eyes to lips.  He was the luckiest man alive, certainly luckier than he ever dreamed of being.  He had not only the most powerful Demon Eyes as his lover, but he had the most beautiful woman in the world as his wife.  He felt himself stiffening and he quickly crossed the room to climb back beneath the covers to cover his wife.  He straddled her pregnant body, his rough hands cupping the firm yet luscious breasts and his mouth made contact with her lips, scouring down her chin to her neck and kissing the delicate skin.  He felt her stir beneath him, her hands taking him and caressing him and he looked down to see the fire igniting in her dark eyes, the sheen of her reddish blonde hair catching in the flickering street lamp.

            Yuri blinked.  Her reddish hair?  Alice didn't have...

            He looked again as he pulled back slightly to find Koudelka beneath him, her body responding to his needs and her expert hands giving him shocks of pleasure to match the shock of her presence in his bed.

            "What the fuck!" he exclaimed and pushed away from her, falling out onto the cold floor.  He looked up to see the flickering street lamp shine on his sleeping wife, Alice stirring slightly as the chill air touched her. 

            "Oh man, I was dreaming," Yuri muttered and climbed to his feet, sliding back into bed.  'What a fucking stupid dream,' he thought and cuddled close to Alice once more, pulling up the comforter to tuck in around them.  Sleep skittered close then took him again with a sigh as the street lamp flickered on the curtains in its own mad dance.

            Yuri started awake, hearing sounds outside and realized it was a warning siren; the German's were being a pain and sending planes and balloons in an attempt to attack London and the English shores, but the British military was strong, the country secure and Yuri sighed, wishing he hadn't been awakened again so soon.  He straightened the comforter and snuggled down closer to Alice; she felt cold again to his touch and he tucked in the warm blanket and snuggled next to her hair, kissing her neck and smelling her perfume.

            Suddenly he jerked back; her perfume was that of death and decay.  He looked down at a desiccated corpse, wearing the blue dress he remembered from Asia, its ruffled lace brown with dirt and dried blood, her once beautiful face mummified.  With a shout, he grabbed up the corpse and held it to his breast, a scream bursting its way forth from his heart and he cried out in wretched pain, great sobs wracking his body as he rocked Alice back and forth in his arms.

            "Oh goddamn!" he cried and came awake suddenly in the cold bed, looking around the darkened bedroom, illumined only by the flickering street light.  He closed his eyes a minute, gulping the cool air and waiting for his heart to stop pounding before he turned in the bed.  He lifted the comforter and found... nothing.

            "Alice?"

            The sheets were cold, no indentation showed in the bed where she had laid but moments ago, and Yuri, scanning the dark room jumped up in the bed and screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A/N: I own the computer this was written on and that's about it.  Thanks to AriesCelestial for the idea of Yuri beating up the Vending Machine.  She used it in her story Shadow Souls, and for last chapter's reference to Halley and Yuri wrestling, pulled wholesale from "I Love You Daddy".  That is _so _Yuri!

            Koudelka poured another cup of strong hot tea and handed it to Yuri who simply held the cup in his hands.  At least they had stopped shaking, but an hour ago, Koudelka wasn't sure she'd be able to calm him down at all.  Yuri had awakened the entire household with his nightmare screams and it had taken Halley and Katie both to get him semi-dressed and downstairs to the kitchen, the whole time Katie talking non-stop about her upcoming fusion trial, and how he had promised to help her: a running soliloquy that he either ignored or didn't hear.

            Finally, the kids went back to bed and Koudelka sat at the kitchen table, in her black night dress and white robe, across from the father of her children.  His eyes still looked haunted and there was yet pallor to his face, but he did look a bit better.

            "Yuri, what happened?  Did you have a nightmare again?" she asked softly, one hand reaching out to touch one of his, still holding the cooling cup. 

            "No – no, yes.  I dunno.  I – I dreamed about you and Alice and..."

            "Alice?" she said and sighed.  "Her again," she said softly, straightening up with a shake of her head.  Then, "Are you remembering something from the past, Yuri?"

            Yuri shook his head, long bangs falling into his almond shaped eyes, and he gazed vacantly into the cooling teacup. 

            "I don't ... Koudelka, I dunno what's goin' on. I dreamed about you in my bed; and then Alice was there and she was a mummy and then she's not there and ... I don't understand!" he shook his head violently, the teacup spilling over his hands and onto the tabletop.

            Koudelka sighed.  "You've been sleeping alone for the past month now Yuri; you said these nightmares would stop once Katie had her Trial.  But I miss you in our bed.  And, sweetie, there never was any Alice.  Unless you're remembering the Princess Alice; but that was from before, when we were in Nemeton.  Why would that bother you now?"

            Yuri looked up suddenly, eyes wide.  "What the hell are you sayin'?  No Alice?  Of course there was an Alice; she was my wife for god's sake!"

            Koudelka sighed again.  "We've been over this time and again, Yuri.  You were never married to anyone; not even me.  We live together; you fathered my children, raised them.  You were never in China, never in Europe. There never was an Alice."

            Yuri scowled and slammed the teacup down on the table, shattering it.  "The fuck you say!  I'm half-Japanese; how the hell do you think I got here?  Alice and Zhuzhen and the others and me - we fought Albert Simon; we killed his fucking god from Outer Mongolia or ..." shuddering, Yuri suddenly stood up.  "I gotta get outta here.  Where's the car keys.  I gotta leave.  I gotta go see ... _ah hell I don't know what to do_!" He slumped back on the chair as quickly as he had risen and lay his head on his arms, tears welling up in his eyes which he screwed shut against the pain.

            "What do I do now... oh Alice, what do I do now?" he cried and Koudelka could hear the soft sobs muffled by his arms and the faded brown bathrobe that he wore.

            "May – perhaps you should go see Roger.  He's... he's a friend of ours from before.  You may remember him; from the Monastery?" Koudelka suggested, her heart reaching out to him while her hand gently touched his shoulder.

            Yuri sniffled a little, but refused to look up at Koudelka. 

            The clock in the hall clicked then chimed the hour, and Koudelka waited. Finally, she moved her hand from his shoulder and rapped her knuckles on the table.

            "Come on Yuri, snap out of it.  Is it the nightmares making you act this way?  Is it Katie's Trial that's worrying you?  Please, try to be strong; for the children at least."

            Yuri brought his head up and stared across the table, seeing Koudelka with salt-stained vision.  She looked disheveled and mussed, like she'd been asleep when he started screaming.  Well, of course she'd been asleep!  They all had; it was the middle of the night.  She had slept alone since his nightmares began - she said that; she must have been lonely.  He remembered her warmth and her full figure pressed against him, his manhood straining to fill her...  He suddenly jumped in his chair, the thoughts in his head slamming him into full awareness.  'I am not sleeping with this woman; I have never slept with this woman.  I married Alice.'

            "I'm going to see Roger," he said with finality and rose from the chair.

            "I'll have Halley get his motorcycle ready.  It's faster than the trains," Koudelka offered and caught his arm as he moved away, pulling him close into an embrace, her lips pressed against his, her tongue offering libations to his tortured soul.  Yuri felt himself leaning into the kiss, his body reacting without volition, before he shuddered and pushed Koudelka away.

            "No, no this is wrong; it's all wrong.  I'm getting dressed... now and yes, Halley's motorcycle," he said sounding distracted even as he turned and fled up the stairs.

            Halley was waiting downstairs when Yuri emerged from the old house dressed in his leathers and old trench coat, carrying the small satchel that he always used for his claws.  Castle Street was cloaked in fog and the few lights that worked were islands in the grey smoke that was the early morning mist.  Halley stood by a gleaming metal cycle, its chrome glistening and a grin of pure pride split his young face from ear to ear.

            "Like it?" he asked, showing off the bike to Yuri. 

            Yuri nodded, scanning the cycle and touching with gloved fingers the leather seat and saddle pouch.

            "Nice wheels.  You sure you wanna lend to me?" he asked.

            "What?  Hell, pop; you helped pay for it, so why shouldn't I lend it to ya?" Halley asked, concern warring with pride on the young psychic's face.  He didn't understand what was happening to his dad, didn't understand why he and mom weren't sleeping together; didn't understand why Yuri acted so strangely.  Koudelka had told him Yuri was having problems with the Malice; that he was preparing for the Fusion Trials for Katie.  But even though Halley trusted his mother, his dad was another matter; his dad was a harmonixer and a fusionist and Halley had learned never to trust one thanks to Katie.  Still, Yuri had been there most of the time, and he did give money and support the family.

            Halley showed Yuri how to start the Triumph cycle, where the light switch was and then handed him a leather helmet with goggles.  He already had on leather gloves and his coat so Halley left him to settle onto the bike.  Yuri nodded his thanks, put his small satchel into the saddlebags, and gunned the throttle, the putter of the motor igniting into a solid hum as he fed it petrol.  Pulling down his goggles, Yuri gunned the bike once more and shot forward, wobbling slightly until he managed to balance the machine and then sped down Castle Street for Whitechapel High Street and the Tower Bridge. 

            The fog followed him across the bridge, the steady thrum of the Triumph's motor the only sound at this early hour; a few civilian lorries and motor cars sped along the road, and Yuri wove in and out of the sparse traffic, causing not a few horns to blare in his wake, but continuing west out of London.  The wind caught him up and pulled at him as he sped down the Slough Road and by sunup, he had traveled as far as Reading.  The reddish hues of the sunrise at his back cast long shadows and he hoped he'd make it to Aberystwyth before sunset that day.  

            He caught the ferry at Chepstow, his feet tapping with frustration against the wooden deck as the slow boat crossed the Bristol Channel.  Leaning on the railing, he tried to control his empty stomach that roiled and rumbled against the heaving of the boat.  For the life of him, Yuri could not understand why he couldn't cross water without threatening the fish with his stomach's contents; it made no sense to him.  But then lately, not a hell of a lot had made sense.  The dream this morning with Koudelka in his bed, responding to his lovemaking ... he felt his body responding to the memory,  and wondered how the hell things got so messed up. 

            'There's no way I married her,' he thought.  'Well, no; she said we weren't married.  We had kids though.  But what about Alice?' and he remembered the other part of the dream with Alice as a cold and desiccated corpse and then being gone completely.  'And what was all that crap Koudelka was sayin' about it hadn't happened yet but was goin' to?  What was going to happen?'  His thoughts roiled with his stomach and he leaned over the railing, watching the dark water slap against the ferry's hull.  By the time the ferry docked, Yuri had lost his battle and was dry heaving, his empty stomach refusing to settle down. With a moan, he mounted the Triumph and gunned the motor, throttling it to full once the tires hit dirt and he shot forward, heading at breakneck speed to Aberystwyth.

            The approach to Nemeton Monastery had changed since he was last there.  The town of Aberystwyth with its train station was still an hour's ride away but the once accessible dirt road was now ploughed up with deep gouges and runnels from the conduit that tore though the earth upon Neameeto's rising.  The rolling grasslands still waved in the wind, their long stalks fluttering and dancing in a constant motion that reminded Yuri of certain dancing girls he'd seen in China, their long scarves an extension of their lithe and supple bodies.  Here the grass moved first one way then another, dancing with the play of the wind and Yuri brought his bike to a halt at a deep rip that broke open the earth like a claw gouging through the soil and ripping its way to the sea.  Setting the bike down Yuri walked to the edge, looking down into the chasm that was fully a hundred feet down.  With a shake of his head, he turned back to the bike.

            'Man that is a deep hole,' he thought.  Revving up the engine once more, he spun the bike around and ran back down the dirt road spinning back around to face the chasm when he was several hundred feet away.

            "Nothing for it but to jump," he said aloud and throttled the Triumph's motor, revving it up to its highest point before releasing the brake.  The bike leapt forward, the front wheel raised off the ground for a moment before touching down and he powered forward, hunched over the handlebars, teeth grit in a feral grin and his eyes glowing with excitement.  This was living, this was taking chances; this would drive Alice nuts if she were to see him.  Hitting the edge of the chasm Yuri yanked hard on the handlebar, leaping the bike up and out, and over the deep gorge.  Air was around him; air was beneath him as the motor thrummed full throttle between his legs, and his life was on the cutting edge just as the rear wheel came down, skittering scree and dirt across the broken roadway and the bike sped forward towards Nemeton Monastery and Roger Bacon.

            Old Roger's house still looked like it had just landed from Mars; the central structure being tall and rounded with an observatory in the roof.  A few additional outbuildings were under construction, with legs reminiscent of a red spider and Yuri shook his head, frowning at the odd conglomeration as he pulled up to the path and parked the Triumph.  Dropping the helmet onto the cycle seat, he climbed up the walkway and banged on the door just as it started to open.

            "Hey Rog!" he called out.  He stepped onto the dimly lit landing and looked down over the railing.  Below was the spiral stairs, winding around the perimeter of the house with the library off to one side, it's walls lined floor to ceiling with books; and just before that the small kitchen with its table and chair.  Just past that was the vending machine that Yuri always used, and he remembered the last time with a grin; he'd put in the coin and it had stuck and rather than wait for Roger to give it a tweaking, he had given it a good swift kick.  Alice had been rightly miffed at him for that as it damaged the machine, which would then neither return the coin nor give up the item they wanted.  In the center of the house stood the observatory and Roger's latest invention – whatever that was.  With a shrug Yuri checked that the floor below was clear before leaping over the railing.  He landed with a thud, his boots making a loud clack as he hit the ceramic flooring and he looked around.  Roger was bent over a machine console; his sandaled feet in the air while his monk's robes were...

            "Roger, you really ought to wear pants when you do that sorta thing," Yuri said with a grin.  The old monk started and slammed his head on the console as he stood up.

            "Ouch ouch ouch – inconsiderate brats," he muttered and then turned to scold the intruder, but then changed his mind at sight of Yuri.  "Ah, oh, Yuri!  I am so glad you are here; you can help me," the old man said waiving him over.  "In all my years I have yet to find a way to clone myself to give myself an excellent assistant; but then I would probably be more trouble than I am worth and I wonder if I would then have twice the intelligence or only half!" he said and indicated a large treadmill set off to the side.

            Yuri sighed.  "Oh not again," he groaned.  "Look Roger, I've got a problem needs fixing and you're the only one I think can help."

            "Now, now, this won't take but a few minutes; here, climb up and give me some power, will you?" the elder monk and scholar indicated the treadmill again and Yuri shrugged, climbing up and putting his hands against the support bar.  Looking down he saw that the tread bore scuffmarks, like many booted feet had been pushing on it.

            "Hey Rog –"

            "Not now, start running!" Roger instructed and climbed back on top of the console, poking his head beneath the machinery. "I just need to make some adjustments."

            Yuri shrugged inelegantly and began to push, the heavy gears of the treadmill slowly coming to life as he pushed.  In a few moments Yuri was running, his legs pumping hard as he kept the treadmill generator sparking with energy.  Looking over he saw Roger climb out of the console.  Panting, he called to the old man.

            "You should get an electric or wind generator for this thing, Roger.  How do you do this without help?"

            Roger straightened his robe before responding.  "Oh, I have the young boys from Aberystwyth come and help. That's right; keep I steady now..."

            Yuri kept running, his breath coming in gulps now as he had been running for over five minutes.  The machine at the center of the room, next to the observatory, was beginning to hum, sparks of electrical energy igniting inside and giving off multicolored rainbows of light.  Yuri turned back to his running, wondering why the hell he let himself get roped into this kind of thing, but then, with a mental shrug, settled in to enjoy the exercise; he'd been entirely too sedentary lately with Alice getting pregnant and all.  He needed a bit of exercise, a bit of fighting to hone his skills; a little running would have to suffice.

            The machine continued to glow and spark and hum, a deep thrumming sound coming from its confines and Yuri continued to run, powering the generator.  Old Roger Bacon, poking his head back inside the console and fiddling with the insides, called out for Yuri to stop running, but he didn't hear, the noise of the machinery louder than Roger's voice.  Yuri was in a space all his own now, running on the treadmill, feeling the air as it filled his lungs, the muscles in his legs as they flexed and relaxed with each stride.  Yuri felt at home in his head and in his body, remembering all those days, weeks, and months that he and Alice had traveled through Asia and Europe and the many times they had done just this – run.  He had a steady lope, and his long legs could carry him for miles if need be.  No, he wasn't the greatest runner, Halley could run better and faster sometimes, especially if something was chasing him, but Yuri could endure.  He had endured all those years alone, surviving on his wits ... yeah, sometimes he did dumb things, and Margarete was forever telling him he was stupid, but he wasn't.  He didn't get much schooling but he wasn't stupid.  Stupid monster hunters were dead monster hunters.  He smiled at that thought and let his mind wander.

            Across the room, Roger climbed from the console, his shrill voice rose to get Yuri's attention, but when the young man didn't respond, he ran as quickly as his ancient body would allow, getting to the machine in the center of the house.  But by then it was too late; energy was sparking rapidly back and forth from diodes in the machine and a final pulse of light sent an arc of energy shooting out from the machine toward anything metal in the room: the observatory, the console, the generator.  Yuri suddenly found himself surrounded by arcing electrical energy and his surprise was quickly followed by pain as that energy used him for a ground.

            Yuri found himself lying on his back, looking up at a cloud tattered sky; a full moon peeked out briefly before pulling the shreds of clouds back around her naked face and the air was redolent with mist, cold and the smell of death and decay.  Quickly Yuri jumped to his feet, brushing off moisture and debris from his backside even as he looked around.  He was outside, standing in the dark next to... was that the old arbor?  He looked up at the surrounding buildings, two stories tall, very old, with signs that they had once been inhabited and someone had made repairs, but for the most part still dilapidated.  On his right was a huge house, two stories tall, painted and decorated and he could see bars on the windows.  Next to that was a chapel and then, across the grounds from him stood an old church, the front showing signs of severe damage, while above, the spire and bell tower stood straight and tall, striking skyward like a spear, and Yuri felt a cold fist settle in his stomach.

            "This is Nemeton, the way it was before the fire," he muttered to himself.  "Holy shit, what did I do now?" he moaned.

            Unsure what to do or where to go, Yuri walked around the arbor; he quickly realized that was not a good idea.  He had brought his fighting claws with him, putting them in the satchel and strapping them to the motorcycle and he'd even brought the satchel inside and put it down when he started running on the treadmill.  But his claws were not with him and the first thing he ran into was a brutish giant bat; it was almost as big as a man, black, with claws and it wasn't alone.  With it was – Yuri blinked thinking his eyes had gone bad.  A corpse walked upright, its female form still lovely to behold until his eyes got to where the head should be.  Shoulders, neck, and head were gone, ripped from the torso like so much rotted meat and there appeared to be both rotten flesh and rancid blood accumulating in the cavity, for the upper torso had been hollowed out as well.

            'Damn, good thing Alice isn't here; she'd lose her lunch,' Yuri thought irreverently before he leapt at the torso. He gave the body a good fist to the gut then a side-kick from the left, pushing it into the black bat like creature; it wasn't fazed.  Instead it took three careless steps forward, quivered strangely and then suddenly bent forward, the cavity aimed at Yuri just as a gusher of blood and body fluids sprayed out, exploding in the cold night air and covering Yuri.  With a moue of distaste, Yuri jumped right, slamming his booted heel into the bat creature and, hearing a satisfying crunch, watched in satisfaction as it crumpled to the pavement, quivering near death.

            'Well that's one.  Now for you, whatever you are,' and he turned to confront the exploding female corpse.  After a couple of punches and a boot to the gut, Yuri realized this corpse, whatever it was, was tougher than he had thought.  Looking around for something to use as a weapon, he spotted the now dead bat.  He reached down and grabbed its hooked claw, and with a vicious punch, snapped it off of the wingtip pulling a piece of bone with it.

            "All right you dead bitch," he growled.  "Come to poppa."

            Claw in hand he now approached the stinking corpse, offering his left side to the creature's attack while holding the sharp claw in his right.  The corpse sidled closer, offering its stinking maw, preparing to disgorge its putrid contents once more and Yuri brought up the claw, holding it by the extended bone, and slashed downward, cutting across the chest, opening up a deep gash in the already damaged torso.  He followed that with a side kick, knocking it down to the cold pavement.  Then with a leap, he slammed his heel into the creature's back, breaking the remaining backbone and then came down with a knee, crushing the remains.  He shoved the claw in for good measure, sending blood and fluids splattering across the pavement.

            "Die bitch die," he growled.

            Panting, he watched as the exploding corpse quivered at his feet for a moment then went still. Looking around he didn't see any more enemies and was considering dropping the claw when the ground rumbled beneath him and the echoes of an explosion filled the courtyard, the sound bouncing from the stone walls.  Yuri quickly looked up at the church; there was no sign of life, but that didn't mean no one was there.  Gripping the Brute's claw, he sprinted across the courtyard toward the dark church; the entrance lay open, the doors ajar and Yuri entered, his hackles raised in the chill air and the close silence that followed the explosion.

            Inside, the church was a shambles, the pews strewn left and right like a giant hand had swept them aside.  Here and there candelabra stood dark or leaned against a broken pew, and the nave was covered in dust and dirt.  Yuri looked up the central isle, peering into the gloom toward the main entrance to the sanctuary.  It was blocked, but he could see movement beyond.  At a sprint he ran across the nave and up the steps, and as his feet hit the upper stair he felt a presence behind him.  A chill ran down his spine and he felt an answering shiver with his fusions; something was resonating with a sense of power and evil.  Raising the claw, Yuri turned.  Above him and descending rapidly from the rafters of the old church, was a grey figure, huge and with bat-like wings.  It had a long, sharp beak of a nose with a mouth full of pointy razor sharp teeth and it hovered over the church floor on great grey wings that, fully extended, would have topped ten feet each.  Yuri swallowed, his eyes and mouth falling open in shock.

            'It's the gargoyle,' he thought, not daring to breathe.  'It's that fucking gargoyle …' He recalled Koudelka's quiet voice telling him of her confrontation with the creature - and how it was impervious to all weapons.  'But I thought she defeated it, sealed it away.  Isn't Amon ...' he thought then chased it all away as the being made of stone and malice suddenly dove down to strike him with solid blows of fists and wings.  Yuri staggered under the blows, hunching down to avoid the deeper wounds he knew that thing could issue by its mere size and strength alone.  When it moved back, Yuri lowered himself to one knee and considered his options; looking around he could see no way to escape that would not lead directly into the creature's clutches. Furthermore, the opening behind him, where he had seen movement before, was blocked by something large.  He would not be able to get through there without turning his back on the gargoyle.  Without medicines or weapons, he was limited and he knew it.

            "Why is it never easy?" he said through gritted teeth, then reached in for a fusion soul, preferably one with strong magic that could render the gargoyle helpless with little cost to himself.  His first choice, the Seraphic Radiance he immediately tossed aside for the amount of magical energy it would siphon from his system.  Amon fell into the same category, although Yuri had to grin at the thought of Amon facing the gargoyle.  It was a creature of air and stone, and Yuri doubted his air class or earth class fusions would be able to handle it; that left light, darkness, water and fire.  With a grunt, he reached for Forron the most powerful of his fire class fusions; Forron's magic was powerful and he greatly enhanced Yuri's physical strength and endurance so that the battering blows of the gargoyle would do little damage.  A heartbeat later Yuri's physical form was replaced by the nearly seven foot tall Forron, his heavily scaled hide like that of armor and with a grin, and a growled challenge, he summoned his first fire attack.

            The church floor trembled at the summoning, the Gates of Hell opening in the once holy place, filling the air with sulfur and smoke before disgorging a wall of fire that melted the floor even as it engulfed the hovering gargoyle. Yuri doubted that one blow would fell the creature he believed had become Amon, so he stepped back after the raging flames died down, waiting to assess the damage.  The church floor smoked in ruination, and black streaks climbed wall and column where the flaming magma had struck; but the gargoyle yet hovered in the air, his eyes glowing a feral red and Yuri growled in frustration.

            'You just don't know when to die, do you?' the young harmonixer thought then summoned a further barrage of fire, engulfing the flying stone manifestation of malice and hate.  Magma surged upward like a flaming fountain and Yuri heard a squeal coming from the gargoyle; had he hurt it?  Squinting, the fusionist waited less than patiently for the Hell Fire to clear, sulfuric smoke rising like fog from the floor and the floor, walls and nearby columns blacked like pitch.  But the gargoyle remained, its stone body blackened only a little; it had furled its wings around itself and was spinning in place.  Yuri puzzled a moment before realizing the thing had protected itself from his attack and was now preparing to return the compliment. 

            'Oh shit,' was his last thought as the gargoyle's wings suddenly snapped open and a spiral of wind suddenly thrust its way across the floor, picking Forron up off his feet and slamming him into the rear wall. Yuri shook his head and looked in surprise at the stony flying menace. 'He's stronger than I thought.  I – I hate to have to do this but...' Yuri climbed to his feet and released his fusion, letting the fire and fury that was Forron retreat to the back of his mind.  Instead, he reached again for a fusion; this one he knew could destroy the gargoyle; but without any supplies, he only hoped he could do it before he ran out of time, for he was feeling the effects of energy deprivation from the use of Forron's magic.

            With an almost feral grin, Yuri reached within and summoned his most powerful fusion, the God who was defeated at Shanghai: Seraphic Radiance.  The power of the god filled him, threatening to burst through every organ and blood vessel of his body, but at the same time sending arcs of power surging through those arteries, veins and capillaries until his body thrummed with power.  Great black wings sprang from his back and with one gentle down stroke, elevated him from the sullied floor.  With red-flecked black eyes, Seraphic Radiance beheld the hate-created creature mere yards from him and sneered. Yuri felt the power forming even as he thought it, pulling the very fabric of the universe down into his pale hands; like a weaver with a loom, he pulled and threaded the power and formed it into a weave of brilliant light.  Then he let it go, sending it out toward the gargoyle, encompassing it, surrounding it with scintillating energy before that very energy collapsed like a black star.  Energy exploded from the gargoyle, magic and power leeched away and returned to Yuri's god-like hands, filling him with health and a renewed sense of purpose; he could kill this thing with but a thought.

            That thought became reality as Yuri, the Seraphic Radiance, and the protector god of the earth, reached out and offered a prayer to the gargoyle.  The prayer went up to the heavens, and was answered with a blessing as the gift of the god, the gift of death touched the gargoyle and shattered it in a million tiny dust motes scattered along the church floor.  Yuri released the fusion, shaking his head to bring back his own thoughts, and shuddered.  He liked the fusion, but this one always shook his soul a bit, and he could easily lose himself in the power of the Seraphic Radiance - power and near omniscience.  At odd moments, he wondered just how he had fused to such a creature, and then he would shake it off, accepting that there were some things he would never understand about his power and this was one of them.

            With a sigh, he turned toward the opening in the church wall and climbed through into the Sanctuary chamber.  This area was vast, opening up and rising to a tall ceiling; a stained glass window, looked out over the ocean, and a huge pipe organ stood to his far right.  The room was destroyed, what furnishings there were had been shattered and crushed by the huge roots that seemed to have taken over the interior.  In the center of the Sanctuary lay a burial crypt, its casket pushed aside and stairs led down into darkness.  The whole room smelled of fuel oil.  Before he could think about what that meant, the room exploded in flame; the roots and tentacles of the giant plant coming out of the floor crashed through the stained glass window and Yuri, standing near the far wall, ducked to avoid being incinerated.

            He heard a woman's voice yell, telling someone to run.  He squinted up through the wall of fire and spotted a young woman and two men fleeing through the broken glass window.  Pulling his shirt up to cover his mouth, Yuri jumped up and sprinted across the burning Sanctuary floor, leaping for the shattered glass even as the roots tried to trip him up.  His leap carried him out the window and into a roll that brought him to his feet, coughing.  He rubbed soot from his eyes and looked around.  The window had opened up onto a ledge which fell away precipitously toward the crashing Irish Sea below.  Above him was scaffolding that showed where repairs to the church had begun, but ceased as nails lay rusting and boards were warped with rain and age.  A clattering sound above caught Yuri's attention and he squinted up into the dark scaffolding.  There was movement and he could just make out three figures climbing onto the fourth floor above.  With a grunt, he followed.

            The first floor scaffolding had stairs that Yuri could sprint up quickly, but once he made a switch-back and crawled under a buttress, he found he had to climb up warped boards lying across the bare scaffold.  His first leap up had the board bouncing and creaking under his weight and he silently cursed as he slowed down, making the turn onto the next scaffold platform on his hands and knees.  He continued this slow climb until he reached the third floor platform and then was able to run up the more securely set stairs.  He stopped at the fourth floor, scanning the walkway that, oddly, surrounded the church at that level.  He was unfamiliar with churches and thought a walkway up that high was ridiculous, but shrugged diffidently until he saw the remains of several large root-like tentacles and one body, its mummified remains charred and burned beyond recognition.  There had been a fight here, and Yuri could smell the use of fire magic.  Quickly he entered the open window onto the fourth floor.

            The fourth floor was the choir loft for the church, a balcony really, that overlooked the Sanctuary and the organ far below.  Open on one side, there was a stair well leading both down to the church and up to the bell tower.  But up through the floor the large plant had grown, coming up from the crypt below the Sanctuary level to overgrow the Sanctuary itself and climb, like a giant tree up to the choir loft.  There it blossomed into one huge flower, its petals pink, delicate, and open.  Yuri looked at the floor and domed ceiling, seeing the pockmarks of gunfire.  He'd just missed a combat again.  He checked the stairwell and discovered that the stairs leading back down to the Sanctuary were blocked with rubbish, so that left only up.  He climbed the narrow winding stair quickly, hearing as he did so the sounds of fighting. 

            Up the spiral stairwell he went, running as quickly as he could in the narrow confines. Ahead he heard the sounds of combat cease and running feet.  He pushed himself a little further to catch up.  After another minute, he broached the bell tower, the stone stairs opening up to a large lookout over the valley and ocean below.  Above was the bell tower, its dozen bells swaying slightly in the sea breeze. A sound to his right caught his attention and he froze; climbing over the outer wall was a monster, long articulated legs spread wide as its insect like body climbed up the side wall and entered the bell tower.  Yuri stood his mouth agape as the insect stood erect, human head raised high and opened its mouth.  A sound like a scream from hell issued from the human female lips and an answering lightening bolt shot from the heavens, the clouds parting briefly to illumine the scene below the bell tower just as the lightening struck the tower.  The stone and metal tower suddenly collapsed in on itself, bells peeling in wild cacophony and crashing down on the four humans below it. Yuri was suddenly galvanized to action, running to get out of the way, yelling as he did so.  

            "Hey get going!  Lady move yer ass!" he yelled and barreled through the falling debris.  But too late he realized his mistake as the woman turned, distracted at his sudden appearance and called warning, and was crushed by the falling tower even as Yuri leapt aside.  Almost instantly the insectoid monster climbing over the side of the railing attacked, and Yuri and the two other men found themselves defending. 

            "Who the hell are you?" a blond man demanded, his look of ire at Yuri only adding to Yuri's trepidation.  He had the feeling he'd just made a bad mistake.

            "Yuri.  I'm Yuri, and what is that thing?" he asked, indicating the monster even as he bent down to pick up the discarded sword by the woman's corpse; the woman, young, beautiful with blonde-red hair and wearing black lace.

            "That is Elaine; or what she has become," the other man said and Yuri looked up to see Elaine standing nearly twelve feet tall with an elongated insect body, and two sets of legs running from her middle torso and two more from the upper torso, all of them sharp with claws. Her body seemed suspended from an insect like casing, and her head rose proudly tall, with protrusions on either side.  Her face and eyes were still human, but showed no signs of cognizance. "She must be defeated; can you fight?" the priest asked, a deep sadness in his weathered face.

            Yuri stared at the older man, his amber eyes blinking. 'My god, it's that priest, James,' he thought and then a quick glance to his left at the blond male, 'and Halley's dad, Edward. Shit, oh shit I just killed Koudelka!'  Yuri felt his blood settle in his feet as the realization sunk in and he hesitated as the monstrous Elaine moved in for the attack.

            "Don't just stand there, stupid!" Edward yelled at Yuri as he leapt forward, swinging a wicked looking sword at the giant monster.  He sliced down and then up, scoring a deep wound on the thorax of the insectoid Elaine before jumping back and being rewarded with a renewal of his own strength.  "Use Sacnoth; kill it!" [1]

            "Sa-Sacnoth?  What – this?" Yuri hefted the huge, oddly wrought sword and then shrugged. "I'm no sword swinger," he said then grinned.  "But I can sure as hell hack!" With that he leapt forward, swinging the huge sword with both hands, slicing through one jointed leg and then bringing it back up to add more damage to the thorax.  Behind him, he heard James muttering a spell and he moved back just as a fountain of flames gysered over the monster.

            "You'll have to do better than that, James.  Got any of those scrolls left?" Edward asked as he moved in for another attack.

            "I believe so.  You two keep her distracted while I look," the elder priest said and moved away from the combatants to check in his pouch.

            Meanwhile Edward and Yuri combined their attacks, one from the left, the other from the right, managing to sever a couple of limbs and Yuri got in one good stab at the creature's belly, sending spouts of ichor and a string of internal organs slithering to the floor.  Finally, James called out and the two men moved off, allowing James to step forward with the first scroll.  He removed the binding cord from the magical scroll and carefully intoned the brief spell.  The scroll burst into flames, vanishing from James's hands and instantly a wall of flame engulfed the monstrous Elaine.  The creature screamed in pain, and with angry movements of her remaining legs, sent out a wall of magical darkness to strike like lightening.  The three men went down, James breathing heavily.  Yuri scowled.

            "This is no good.  She doesn't like fire. I can give her fire; but you gotta watch my back, eh?" he said to the blond next to him.  Edward looked at him puzzled. "Trust me," Yuri said with a feral grin.  "I've got her number."

            Yuri assessed his fusions and chose Forron; he didn't have much magical strength left after the fight with the gargoyle and unless...

            "Say you wouldn't happen to have some Mana, would you"? he asked James.

            "Mana?"

            "Yeah, replenishes magical energies.  I could use some."

            "You're a magic user?" Edward asked even as James pulled a small bottle from his pouch.

            "High Listel; alcoholic but pleasant," the priest said offering the bottle to Yuri.  With one thumb Yuri popped open the bottle and drank the contents in a single gulp, tossing aside the little glass bottle and summoning his fusion. Both Edward and James moved back, startled that now they had two monsters to deal with.  But the red-skinned giant, Forron, waved them back.  Forron was one of Yuri's personal favorites when it came to both using fire as a weapon and out and out body bashing.  This would be fun.  He stepped up to the monster and with four flying fists, hammered onto the insect body, pummeling the creature until it took a step back, screaming in anger and pain. Then he jumped back and summoned magic.  The floor rumbled beneath their feet and the fusion gestured, opening a doorway in the stones that suddenly spewed forth a wall of hellfire; thick, burning magma rushed over the stones and quickly engulfed the injured monster and with a scream, the insectoid woman collapsed, falling back down the bell tower to crash into the burning church below.

            Yuri released his fusion and stood at the edge of the bell tower, looking down on the burning church, his thoughts in turmoil.  Finally, with a shrug, he turned to James and Edward, taking a few steps back toward the pile of the belltower and the crushed body of Koudelka, his lover.

            "We better get lost from here; the whole place is burning."

            Edward nodded, kneeling for a brief moment at the side of the dead woman, a look of mixed regret and grief passing for a moment in his eyes.

            "She saved my life," he said softly.  "I wish this hadn't happened."

            "Me too," Yuri agreed.  "It complicates things," and his mind flashed on Koudelka, standing in the kitchen, her robe falling open as she kissed him, her lips full and inviting, her… he shook his head, turning back toward the others again.

            The priest, James, sat on the edge of the tower and looked over the sunset beyond; the once cloud studded and wind swept sky was now calm and clear, the light of sunrise painting the horizon in pastel hues.  He shook his head.

            "This whole time, a waste. Such a waste," he said to no one.

            Yuri moved to the edge of the tower and looked down at the buttresses below.  With a nod, he jumped, landing in a roll on the hard packed soil below.  Just beyond was a graveyard and, standing at one gravestone was a wizened old man dressed in a ratty brown monk's robes.  Yuri instantly recognized Roger Bacon. 

            "Hey Rog!" he called and ran toward the old man.  "I need yer help."

            Roger Bacon, the aged monk whom Koudelka and the others had awakened from his long slumbers in the monastery, turned sparkling brown eyes onto Yuri.  He leaned on a crook, waiting as the young fusionist approached, his beady eyes crinkled in humor.

            "Always rushing, rushing, rushing.  You young people push yourselves way too much," the old man said with a gap-toothed grin.

            Yuri scowled, wondering what the hell the old man was on about now, but then shook it off.

            "Roger, I need yer help; I need to get back.  Oh damn! I've really messed things up," Yuri said and went to one knee in order to look Bacon in the eye. 

            "Now speak sensibly," Bacon said. 

            "I - I killed Koudelka.  I didn't mean to, it was an accident.  She – she got killed by the bell tower fallin' on her," and Yuri waved in the general direction of the church tower.  "Oh damn!  Now she can't help me save Alice or stop Simon or god or nothing!" Yuri was babbling.

            For long minutes Bacon looked at the young man kneeling in front of him, babbling in accented English, Russian and who knew what else, before finally rapping him on the head with his crook.

            For  a moment Bacon's mind flashed with the image of the vibrant young woman who had awakened him from his long slumber as well as bringing him Patrick Heyworth's notebook.  With a sigh he looked down at the young man kneeling in front of him.  "Did you say Simon?  And what's this about killing Koudelka?" he asked.

            Yuri sighed, trying to redirect his addled thoughts.  He looked back at James and Edward as they packed up the gear onto Koudelka's splay-legged horse.  How could he tell Roger… he didn't understand it either.  He somehow ended up back at Nemeton Monastery sixteen years ago, when Koudelka and Edward and James defeated Elaine.  But Koudelka was dead.  That meant…

            "I think – I think yer machine brought me here, Roger," he finally said.

            "My machine?  What machine?  I have not built anything in over a hundred years," the old monk said, his voice quavering.  He looked back at the burning monastery and moaned.  "All those books gone – gone!  Phileus, Landsbric, Sophocles and Archimedes.  All gone."  Bacon looked sadly at the burning building.

            "No, you'll rescue lots of them, old Rog. I know; I saw them - at your house!" Yuri said.

            "My - my house?  I have no house; I lived here, at Nemeton."

            "No, you built a house just down the road.  It was there sixteen years ago … I mean - sixteen years from now. Oh - I don't know what the hell I mean!"

            Roger looked down at the frustrated young man and nodded. 

            "Obviously something has happened.  Why don't we take a little walk down the road to where you say I have a house, and you tell me all about it, eh?"  Roger began to walk down the dirt road, his crook in one hand and a dusty tome in another and his bowed and skinny legs poking out from his tattered robe.  Yuri rose and followed behind, not bothering to say goodbye to Edward or James; after all, if things worked out right, he might see them again anyway.  He had to convince Roger to build that time machine.

* * *

[1] Ok - ok, as anyone knows who has played Koudelka the game, you wouldn't have Sacnoth unless you defeated the Gargoyle. Consider it creative license.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A/N: I don't own Shadow Hearts or Koudelka; and my heart-felt thanks to AriesCelestial for suggesting this story – she's a peach! If you're not confused yet, be patient – you will be. Credit for Koudelka script goes to Darkannex at his homepage of Its one of the few Koudelka fan pages out there so check it out. This chapter is rated "R" for sexual content.

Convincing old Roger Bacon to build a time machine was not that easy. After hearing Yuri's story, garbled and disjointed that it was, he insisted that the young man accompany him to the monastery to retrieve what books and research he could, ransacking both the old musty library and Patrick Heyworth's mansion. He also wanted to hear Yuri's description of his 'house'.

"From what you say," the old man said, directing Yuri to pick up a pile of books he had salvaged from Patrick's burnt quarters, "my house sounds like an observatory. I recall seeing a Persian depiction of such a thing, oh that had to be nearly two centuries ago. Well, if what you say is true, then we must build this domicile in order to house this wonderful machine I have yet to build."

"Roger," Yuri groaned under the weight of the books he was lugging down the hill, "I don't want to hurry you, but—"

"No - no, Yuri, we have all the time in the world," the elder said as he bent to pick up an oddly shaped book, one shaped like a human skull.

"But Alice..." Yuri breathed, pausing in his descent of the hill. 'Alice is in danger. If I'm not there to save her; if Koudelka doesn't talk to me... that damned voice is what got me to save her! Koudelka, god she's dead too ... no, no of course she's not dead. We made love, just over there,' he turned to look back up the hill to the remaining gate, hanging on one hinge, Yuri having used Seraphic Radiance to open the gate – with a mere flick of his finger; Roger had wanted to see this God from the East and Yuri had obliged. "We made love and I told her how much I loved her, and we... we had Hal and Katie and... noooo." Yuri dropped the books on the dirt at his feet and fell to his knees, his face screwed up in pain.

"Ooooh, Alice - I remember ... Alice... no, don't let me forget. We've got to fix it. Roger! We've got to fix..."

Roger was coming down the hill, book in hand, and he paused to frown at the kneeling Yuri. "You've dropped the books, Yuri. Fix what? You're not making sense young man."

Yuri scrambled to his feet, lurching over to Roger and took him by his brown robes. "You've got to get the machine to work. It worked before. You can make it work. I have to get back. I've got to!"

"All right all right," Roger said, brushing off Yuri's tight grip and wondering, in a small portion of his mind, what was happening to this young man; he seemed to vacillate between stability and near madness. "I had in mind such a thing; I had the plans in my head. Just give me time."

"Ohhhahh," Yuri moaned, "I don't think time is on my side."

"Nonsense, young man; if what you say is true, then it has already happened; and nothing you do will change that for now." Roger sighed, his eyes looking up into the cloudy sky. "Let me see, let me see, what will I need to do this..."

Yuri didn't see it that way, but with a sigh, did as Roger Bacon suggested. And months passed. Koudelka had died as the sun rose on November 1st and by Midsummer Yuri had finished the first two rooms of Roger's new house. It wasn't the greatest job of carpentry or stonework he had ever done as he was neither carpenter nor mason, but it gave them shelter from the storms that lashed the Welsh coast and got them out of Nemeton and away from the ghosts. Roger had stacked the books in one room and began planning his great machine, a machine to measure time itself, and while Roger planned, Yuri fretted. In the late hours, he would climb up to Nemeton and wander the ruins. He still had Sacnoth and the remaining Listel that James had offered and he worked off his frustration on the denizens of Nemeton and its basement. He also spent time sulking.

Yuri found it difficult to keep his mind on helping Roger when his thoughts kept returning to Alice and Koudelka. He would see Koudelka, her body draped in black lace, with seduction oozing from her every pore, looking at him from their bed, her body willing and able to take him at his most forceful. He could feel her warm flesh next to his, their breath mingling and the sweet perfume of her sex nearly brought him to tears. Then he would shake his head, look around the ruins of the monastery, and sob into his hands, Alice's name like a prayer on his lips, his heart wrenching in his chest.

"Oh God, Alice, no..." he sobbed and tried to bring his mind around to their life together, their time together. He closed his eyes, reshaping the memories of their wedding; Alice in her white gown, all delicate lace and looking so beautiful his heart nearly stopped; and the crazy reception where Zhuzhen had drunk too much wine, eaten too much cake, and ended up serenading one of the church ladies. Luckily the woman had no idea he was singing a bawdy song, and Yuri had been beside himself watching as Keith, the valiant and ever polite lord of Blue Castle, trying in vain to pull Zhuzhen into a side room to sober up. And laughter. Laughter had always been a part of their relationship, him, and Alice. He remembered her giggles at his stupid jokes, his attempts at being a delicate eater at the table. He laughed softly, a smile coming to replace his pain as he recalled those times his mother-in-law had been frustrated at his table manners.

And they had loved each other so much! He held Alice in his arms every chance he had, touching just to feel her tender skin beneath his battle roughened fingers. She didn't mind, pushing him away when it got to be too much. But she seldom protested his fondling of her in their bedroom, his hands covering her perky breasts, caressing their softness and kissing her with lips that hungered for her even now. Their bodies meshed together, like fingers in gloves, and that first time, on their wedding night, Yuri and Alice came together in blood and pain and rose together to heights that Yuri strove to repeat every time he made love to her. Her kisses were so sweet, so soft – like rose petals. Yuri buried his face in his hands and let the tears come, ragged prayers to a god he didn't know falling from his lips.

By Midwinter the preliminary machine was built, a monster of wood and metal and ceramic with wires draped everywhere and Yuri, on a makeshift treadmill was building up the power. Bacon was beside himself with joy, wondering why he hadn't built such a marvel before, while Yuri just wished he'd hurry up with it. January 1st found him running on the treadmill and Bacon setting a pot of water on the platform.

"What's with the water Rog?" he asked, his breath still coming easily as he ran.

"Oh, just to set the timing mechanism. I've set the device to send the pot forward by a few minutes," Roger answered, even as he spun a dial on the wood and metal control console.

"Forward? But we're tryin' to go back!" Yuri called.

"Well yes," Roger said and flipped a switch. Energy from the storage batteries around the platform arced onto the pot and it vanished with a pop of smoke. "But to know if it worked, one must go forward Yuri; we will catch up to the pot and know it worked. If we were to go back, why, we could very well meet ourselves and then, oh my, all hell would break loose!"

Yuri thought hell had already broken loose for he had gone back and killed Koudelka. His soul screamed at him, telling him to get the old man to hurry up or strangle him in the process! But Yuri ignored it, knowing his mind was more like Swiss cheese right now ... he often found himself trying to think of Alice, forgetting who she was for a moment, and then dwelling on Koudelka. Too often, it was Koudelka. Alice was like an angel, illusive, ethereal and, he feared, beyond his reach.

'If that old man doesn't get this thing working... whoa!' he thought and then jumped when the pot suddenly materialized on the platform. "Roger!"

Roger left the console and approached the platform, his knobby knees bent to bring him closer while Yuri jumped past him, picking up the pot, and holding it in his hands like it was a newly discovered treasure.

"You did it Roger, you did it!" he exclaimed, a look of hope in his eyes for the first time in over a year.

"Let us not be too hasty, Yuri. Let us try it again. Wouldn't want to send you back in time and have you turned into a baby now, would we?"

Yuri stared down at the diminutive monk and laughed.

"No," he said. "Who'd change my napkins?"

Roger took the pot from Yuri's hands, his own crackling laughter a counterpoint to Yuri's hearty chuckle. "I never dreamed I'd build such a marvelous device; and here is the young man who helped me do it," he muttered softly. "And he says we know each other; I am doubly blessed."

Yuri stepped down from the platform and went back to the treadmill, his mind already picturing how he'd prevent Koudelka's death and then, conquering the monsters of the monastery, he would sweep her off her feet and make ardent love to her willing young body.

That night Yuri had his supper on the cliff overlooking the sea; the wind still whipped like a madman and the surf was a crashing thunder beneath him, but he didn't care. He was closer and closer to getting back to fix things and that was all that mattered. Wrapped in his trench coat, and eating his meat pie, he looked up at the moon, her silver face a mere sliver hidden by scudding black and grey clouds. He thought back to all the times he'd looked up at the moon, and let the memories take him away. There was that time in China, when he and Lihua were making snow angels and laughing like children. He had to be about five then and they, his mom, dad, and he, had just arrived from Japan. The little girl Lihua had been his first friend and, once the fights for dominance in the children's circles had ceased, he became friends with the rest of her family as well. In the little village outside of Jilin there was about a dozen children so Yuri hadn't been alone all the time. But that night he and Lihua had escaped the warmth of their homes to climb the hill that overlooked the river at the back of his house, the hill with the oak tree and, flat on their backs, made the snow angels. Laughing heartily the two laid there in the snow until her older brother came looking for her. Yuri had stayed in the snow for a little while, looking up at the nearly full moon as she grinned down at him.

And then there was the moon in 1913 when he had run like an idiot to catch the train. He had nearly overslept, mostly because that damned voice had harangued him for hours the night before, giving him such a headache that he'd drunk way too much rice beer and then hadn't awakened until the voice had brought him up with tears in his eyes, yelling for him to get on the train. Much as that had annoyed him, he'd enjoyed the confrontation with the warlock, and had especially enjoyed his time with ... he blinked.

'Now what was her name... the pretty blonde?' he thought. His mind scoured through the memories until he grabbed it. 'Oh yeah, Alice. Pretty thing. She died in Shanghai...'

Suddenly he felt strange in his own mind, like he'd missed something. Yuri grabbed his head, eyes closed tight and concentrated. He forced the memories of that day in Shanghai to come forward: the fight in the tower against Dehuai - he'd gotten injured and Zhuzhen had healed him – the pain of the healing as bad as the injury itself and he complained bitterly at the old adept, and then he'd pulled Alice's body from the Spirit Machine, a devilish device for sucking the life-force from her... she was dead, her lifeless features grey in death... no – she was nearly dead and that damned voice had ... had what? He shook his head again and got up from the grassy cliff. He turned back toward Roger's house with a tight feeling in his chest as he recited his mantra, the mantra he'd repeated hourly since he came here:

"I've got to get back. I – I've got to get back. I've got to fix it."

The next morning Roger agreed to try sending him back. He told Yuri he would prefer to do more tests, but the young fighter – sitting on the platform with his head in his hands, insisted.

"I – I can't remember things Rog. I – I'm forgetting."

"Forgetting what?" the old monk asked as he set about adjusting the machine.

"I can't remember… Alice. She's dead but I married her; and I had kids with Koudelka and man I really wanna do it again 'cuz I miss her too… I can't make sense of my life anymore. Am I the guy who came from China to save the world? Or did I die in Shanghai? Or was that Alice?" his voice trailed off and Roger turned concerned eyes onto his young assistant. Over the last months Yuri had exhibited longer and longer periods of deep depression and near insanity, flinging himself recklessly at monsters in the monastery or running like a deranged madman through the swaying grass of the nearby fields. Something beyond the death of Koudelka was driving him – something to do with China and his old student, Simon. Roger would have dearly loved to keep the youth with him, to be the father he said he never had – but now, watching him fight back tears, the elder monk didn't have the heart to put it off any longer.

"Perhaps it is better to try," he said at last, "than to not try and let you continue to suffer." He turned to the console and flipped a switch. "I want you to get on the treadmill Yuri. We'll build up a battery charge and then, when I say, you can run to the platform and… well, God be with you," Roger said.

Yuri nodded, donning his coat, his heart lightening a little for the first time in months as he began running on the treadmill. Each step brought the battery closer to full charge; each step brought Yuri closer to returning to the past to fix what he messed up.

'Oh god please let me get it right this time. I gotta save Koudelka and… and… the pretty blonde… Oh god I'm such an idiot,' his thoughts matched the pace of the treadmill until Roger called out his name. Then Yuri ran for the platform, his thoughts on the monastery – on Koudelka – and saving her life. And as the energy coruscated around him, he saw Roger waving and offering a prayer for success and then darkness took him and he spun out of the observatory and into…

Yuri landed with a thud in a darkened room, the dust rising from his heavy landing. He had no sooner blinked the dust from his eyes when a blood-curdling scream brought him to his feet, fists raised. Across the dark and dusty room a monster had just killed a man, the blood of the victim spattered over the brown wood of the floor and when the monster turned, its werewolf face was distorted with the effort of biting into the man's head like an apple. Yuri didn't think about it, but leapt to action, his gloved fists enough to wreck havoc. He jumped within the creature's reach, slamming a hard right fist and then a left into the monster's face, pitching aside the human head to bounce along the floor before settling beside some barrels. Yuri followed the punches with a swift set of kicks from both the left and right before offering a finishing blow with the right, his fist cocked back like a piston and exploding into the monster's gut, sending blood and entrails sliding across the floor. The monster died even as Yuri extricated his fist.

Shaking blood from his hand, Yuri searched for and found the head of the dead man. He picked it up and saw the giant bite that obliterated the face, then tossed the head into the debris near the barrels again and went to the body. Slumped against the door, the headless corpse proved that of a young man, with an athletic build, and with a pack lying next to him. Yuri picked up the pack and walked over to a stack of crates across the small attic room. He dumped the contents on the crate and investigated; a small cache of coins, a passport showing a blond haired man in his early twenties and a meager supply of bread and cheese; a small box of ammunition and... Yuri looked around and spotted the gun by the corpse's hand – a small handgun. Yuri was returning for the weapon when a scrabbling sound on the roof caught his attention. Suddenly the upper window was kicked in by an attractive foot and a young lady jumped down, first to the rafters and then to the dusty floor. She stood up and Yuri couldn't help but notice she was very beautiful. She stood a head smaller than he, dark blonde hair with auburn highlights; she was dressed in a very skimpy blue-black skirt, a bustier of black lace, black stockings, and boots. He knew her instantly and felt his body responding to her presence and he smiled.

'Gosh, I never knew she was so young, and she's ... she's so beautiful,' he thought, 'I wonder if she'd mind...'

"Hey there beautiful," he said grinning. "Nice of you to drop in."

The woman started and stepped back, scanning the dusty room, one hand sliding surreptitiously behind her to pull a dagger from her pack.

"Who are you?" she asked and her voice dripped suspicion. Then she spotted the corpse by the door. "A murderer?"

Yuri shook his head, lifting his hands to show them free of weapons though one glove still bore the telltales of blood.

"Nope, just an adventurer - monster got him, an' I got the monster," he said and indicated the werewolf's remains and then the corpse with a nod. "His name's Edward - his stuff's on the crate over there. And my name's Yuri."

"Koudelka," she said briefly and went to the crate to check the belongings of the dead man. "Edward Plunkett of America. Well, he won't need this," she said and shoved all the items back into the pack and tossed it to Yuri. "So, you're a treasure hunter, like him?" she asked.

Yuri slung the backpack on and then bent to pull Edward's body out of the way, laying it in the shadows behind the barrels along with his head.

"Well, sort of; mostly just wandering around. I just got here but the monster got Eddie before I could do anything; too bad for him," Yuri said, and he swallowed a brief chuckle. "Say, maybe we can work together. If there's monsters here ... I'm a pretty good hand at fighting and stuff."

Koudelka turned suspicious eyes onto the young man; he was definitely a vagabond, dressed as he was, and a fighter – his leather clothing showed signs of battle fatigue; he also might have killed the American but that didn't matter. He might come in handy. She nodded once.

"All right; but I'm only going to say this once, so don't forget – if you want to get out of here alive, I suggest you stick very close. Got it?"

"Sure, but what makes you think I could get killed?" Yuri said, handing her the pistol and pulling open the door behind him.

"Call it a feeling. This is no place for people like you."

Yuri turned as Koudelka followed him out the door. "People like me?"

"Careless adventurers."

"So, why are you here then?"

Koudelka stopped as they left the storeroom and looked up at Yuri. "I'm a medium – and I heard a voice calling me from this place."

'Elaine?' Yuri thought but didn't speak.

"Let's go."

They stepped through the door from the upper storeroom and into a small chamber piled high with moldering hay; a few burlap bags were mixed in with the debris and their contents oozed in blackened heaps onto the floor. To their right a bronze door stood, its ornate surface dingy and nearly black. Yuri went to the door and pushed, but it was securely locked. Refusing to give in, he pushed again and again and finally gave it a good kick, but could not make the huge door move.

"Never mind; we'll check back later," Koudelka said. "Let's go this way," and she opened a small wooden door that led them to a thruway. To their right a ladder climbed up to the attic and Yuri bounded up the stairs and climbed the ladder before Koudelka could protest. A minute later she heard his shout of triumph and he descended quickly waiving a piece of old paper.

"It's a map of this old place," he said, hanging down from the ladder. 'But it seems to be missing a lot of stuff.' He thought back over the map he had left with old Roger – the one showing the underground passages. Before he climbed back down the stairs he found a discarded box of bullets and he tossed those to Koudelka.

"You're quite the explorer type," Koudelka said, stuffing the cartridges into her pack and opening the next door, this one to her left.

"Yup and a damned good scavenger too; a survival trait," Yuri said and followed her through the door. It led to a lit hallway, one corridor running straight to another door and to his right, a stairwell. Koudelka hesitated then took a few steps down the left hand hall, its wall cracked and peeling and paused at a painting hung on the wall; it was an unremarkable sea painting and showed a steamship mired on the rocks. Yuri followed and looked at the painting and snorted.

"What a load of shit," he said and flicked a finger at the painting. "I draw better than that." Touching the picture frame set it to swinging on its nail and Koudelka gasped.

"There's something here," she said ignoring Yuri's comment and caught the painting, shoving it to one side to reveal a small cubbyhole with a long, wicked-looking dagger resting in it. "Ah, here you can use this," she said and took out the dagger, letting the painting swing back into place. Yuri took the dagger and made a few practice lunges with it.

"Well it's been a while since I used one of these, but I'll get the hang of it I guess," he said.

Koudelka turned back down the corridor and took the stairs to the first floor. "What kind of weapons do you usually use?" she asked.

"Oh, claws mostly; or knuckles. I use my fists and my feet. I haven't used a knife since I was a kid and a thief. Fists are better; they can't be taken away by a bigger fighter."

Koudelka did not respond but instead lead the way to the first floor. The ground level hallway was dim with no interior lighting and as they rounded the last stair, they were met face to face with the largest cockroaches Yuri had ever seen.

"Ah damn," he groaned, "bugs. I hate bugs!" Dagger in hand he did not wait for a reply from Koudelka before wading into the pair of cockroaches. These were as large as a big dog but they were hard and Yuri's dagger skidded off the tough blackish-brown shells.

"Here, let me," Koudelka said and Yuri moved back. Koudelka raised the pistol, holding it with two hands, and began to fire, each report echoing in the silent hallway. After the fifth shot, the cockroach suddenly jerked and rolled over, dead. Yuri then took on the other one, sliding to his knees as he ran at it and slid nearly half way under the bug and, slicing through its throat and belly, sent it shivering into death.

"Not bad," Koudelka said and indicated the hallway.

Yuri looked down the long dark hall and spotted a door at the end. But before he could wander off, Koudelka indicated another door, set off to the side. There was a small brass plate in the door, as if announcing the room's usage, but it was rubbed out.

"Let's try in here, shall we?" she said and opened the door.

To their surprise it led into a warm apartment, a dining table set in front by the door, held plates and cutlery and, when they entered, an older woman came out of the right hand shadows by the cupboard. She wore an old dress, its creases deep from wear and age and her round face was less than friendly. She had small beady eyes that reminded Yuri of a ferret and he instantly disliked the old harridan.

"Oh, we have guests," she said and indicated the table. "Please, sit down. I'll get my husband." She turned and walked to the back of the apartment and Koudelka watched her with sharp eyes. After a few minutes the husband appeared, walking slowly with bent legs, obviously feeling his age. He had once been a big man, with broad shoulders that still showed beneath his thin grey sweater, but now his muscles were less pronounced; he smiled at Yuri and Koudelka from behind a grizzled graying beard and sat at the table.

"Welcome to Nemeton Monastery. My name is Ogden and you've already met my wife, Bessy. It's not often we get visitors," he said and his voice was gravely.

Yuri pulled out a chair and sat at the table. "We weren't expecting anyone to be here," he said. "You live here?"

"Yes, we're the caretakers here," Odgen said. "How unusual that you two have decided to come to our rural district; there's really nothing interesting here," and he waived airily at the monastery in general. "Please sit down."

Bessy, who had been fusing at the fireplace, returned with a large iron pot which she set on the table. "It has gotten so cold outside. We weren't expecting any visitors so that the soup is all we have. Please, have as much as you want," she offered and her voice, by contrast, was warm and welcoming.  
  
Yuri grinned, rubbing his hands together, and helped himself to a bowl of soup. "Thanks! Smells great an' I am hungry," he said and proceeded to stuff his mouth.  
  
Bessy turned to Koudelka, a potholder still in her hand. "Wouldn't you like some dear? Don't you like potato soup?"

"No, no I'm all right. Thank you," Koudelka said, but she too pulled out a chair and sat down, half of her mind on the couple and half on Yuri, gobbling food like a pig next to her.

"Are you sure? We've got some more bread," she went to a cupboard beside the far wall and opened it, pulling out a large loaf of bread, which she set on the table. "There's plenty more," she said.

"Oh, great!" Yuri said around the bread and soup in his mouth and reached across to break off another piece. Koudelka stared at him. "What?" he muttered. "I'm hungry."

Koudelka remained speechless for a full minute before turning back to he older woman. "Thank you for your hospitality," she said. "Are you really the only ones living here?"

Ogden took out a pipe from his pocket and proceeded to fill it, tamping it down carefully before responding. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, it was pretty foggy, so I couldn't tell for sure… but this place looked like an old church. It seems a bit big for just the two of you."  
  
Ogden struck a match and lit the tobacco, drawing on the pipe and sending white smoke curling to the dark ceiling. "You're right," he said, his voice taking on an almost singsong tone, as if reciting from memory or telling a story. "In the ninth century, a saint from Ireland by the name of Daniel Scotius built a place of worship here to appease monsters and evil spirits. That was how the Nemeton Monastery started… or so I heard," he said.  
  
"Monsters? Is that right…" Koudelka said softly and her eyes shifted quickly to Yuri who was sopping up the last of his soup with the bread.

"We've been taking care of the monastery for a number of years now but, from about six months ago, monsters have been appearing," Ogden continued.  
  
"We see them more and more every night," offered Bessy, who had joined them at the table, her beady eyes moving from Koudelka to Yuri and back. Yuri had finally finished his soup and was tearing off pieces of bread and eating them.

"Thanks for the soup. But, aren't you afraid the monsters might attack or something?" he asked.  
  
The old man snorted and set his pipe down on the table. "I used to be a sailor! I'm not afraid of any monsters!" he said and his voice was full of confidence. "But that doesn't mean I'm not careful," he added.

"We'll be careful too, thank you. And thank you for the meal," Koudelka said rising from the table.

Yuri stood quickly to follow. "Uh, yeah, thanks for the food. It was good," he said with a nod and trailed Koudelka from the apartment. He wanted to ask her questions, his mind buzzing with the conversation at the table but Koudelka held up her hand calling for silence. Instead, they walked down the corridor to the far door and entered. The room turned out to be a kitchen and they climbed a small stair to reach the main floor. The stairwell was lined with barrels of dry goods and the kitchen fireplace was alive with a warm and crackling fire.

"Just what was that about?" Yuri asked. "And you wasted all that food – we should have asked for take-out." He said stopping at a large woodblock table. He had followed her up the stairs and pushed past her to investigate the room. It proved empty with only the large block table on one side, another counter across the room and barrels along one wall.

Koudelka shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, well if it weren't poisoned, then I would have had some."

Yuri picked up an old knife from the table and put it in the backpack before it dawned on him what Koudelka had just said.

"Poisoned? What are you on about – the food was fine, and I was starved!" he said watching her cross the room to the fireplace and begin warming her hands.

"It was poisoned," she said, "just a little. I smelled some poisonous plant. You'll be feeling it shortly."

Yuri blinked, thinking he heard a note of amusement in her voice before frowning and casting his eyes about the kitchen for some kind of antidote; instead he found a wedge of cheese and a small loaf of bread. These he put in the pack as well. He had wandered over next to the counter and found another door opening to a side storage area.

"Hey look here," and he descended another small set of stairs. The room was filled with broken junk, and some containers with labels he couldn't read. But in the middle of the storage room, he found an air vent leading down. It was small and covered with a grate, but when he looked down, he saw a green glow that reminded him of the pool in the basement of the monastery – the one just before getting to the final doors where they had faced Albert.

"There's another area below," he said, looking up at Koudelka. She had followed him in and scoured the room, finding some discarded plants that she put in her pack with a smile.

"We'll need these I'm sure," she said.

"What is it?"

"Antidotes," and her smile became a grin. "How are you feeling?"

Yuri wiped sweat from his brow and shrugged. "Okay I guess – a bit hot. Why is it so hot in here?"

"It's not hot; it's October, and you're sick. I can tell you how it's going to be," she said with an almost feral grin. "In a few minutes you won't even be able to move, and without this antidote, you'll die," she said and, with a little shake of her head, Koudelka climbed the stairs back up to the kitchen.

Yuri watched her, surprised. 'Well if that don't ... she's got a mean streak. I like that,' he thought and followed her back to the kitchen, each step taking him longer than he thought it should. By the time he made the kitchen he was panting, sweat now pouring from him and he collapsed to his knees at the table.

"Kou-koudelka, help me," he moaned even as he slid unconscious to the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

A/N: Once more into the insanity that is Koudelka and Shadow Hearts. No, I don't own them. And I thank AriesCelestial from the bottom of my heart for letting me steal the idea for this story. (Even if she DOESN'T recognize it anymore!) Luv ya! Cudos to Darkannex for his hard work on Koudelka's script.

A voice was calling him in his sleep but he didn't want to listen to it. It called and called, and finally bothered him enough that, with a headache, he woke up. He looked around the darkened room and wondered where he was. Hadn't he been in Changchun last night, drinking and wenching? Well, drinking anyway – yeah, so ... he had to be there still.

Rising from the lumpy bed, he walked unsteadily to the window and pushed open the sash. A full moon shone down from a black velvet sky and stars twinkled ever so faintly in the background. The streets below were rimed in moonlight and no one was below. With a sniff, Yuri knew that it was early morning and sunup was still several hours away. Now what had awakened him? Oh yes, that voice. It kept coming, awake, or asleep, telling him to do things; but Yuri didn't feel like doing them; not right now. What had it said? Ah, yes, catch the train. Yuri felt in the pocket of his leather trousers - nope, no money. Well, he wouldn't be catching the train tonight; besides, what was so damned important? With a shrug he returned to his nice warm empty bed and went back to sleep.

He was just settling into a nice dream - a beautiful blonde girl who smelled sweetly of flowers, swooned in his arms, his eyes drinking her in and his fingers, ever so subtly, touching her through her jacket. She was soft and he was hard and he could feel himself wanting to explore her gentle curves even further when something sharp stuck him in the ribs. With a moan, he opened his eyes. The room in Changchun was gone; instead, he was lying on the cold stone floor of the kitchen in Nemeton Monastery; Koudelka was standing over him, and he looked up to see her legs disappear into a short skirt and above that ... Growling in his throat, he sat up.

"What happened?"

"You ate the poisonous food, remember?" Koudelka said, the tone of her voice reminding him of the voice in his dream. "Are you going to get up now, or do I give you my boot again?"

"You – you cured me?" Yuri asked even as he pushed up onto his feet and shook himself, rubbing his sore ribs.

"Yes. But I won't make a habit of it," she said. "Let's go." Without looking back, she led the way across the warm, fire lit kitchen and through the far door near the cupboard. This opened onto the furnace room, with two large broken furnaces. Tsking to himself, Yuri scrounged the area and found a pipe lying on the ground and took it in hand, putting the dagger in his belt, before following Koudelka through the next door into an herb garden. The herbarium was long and rectangular in shape with a broken fountain on one side and, down to their right, an arbor. On the ground by the dry fountain, they found an unconscious man; he was older than either of them, with graying hair and age wrinkles in his long face and he wore the robes of a priest. Yuri instantly recognized him from descriptions Koudelka had given them last year: James O'Flaherty. He groaned inwardly at the thought of traveling through this monastery with a mad priest, and he said so.

"What are you talking about Yuri?" Koudelka asked then turned toward the overgrown arbor. "Wait, there's something down there," and she walked away.

Yuri stood looking down at the unconscious priest and then up to Koudelka, indecisive. But then, movements in the arbor made him run yelling down the herbarium. A gigantic plant moved out of the shadows, its roots and stem as big around as three trees, and it was topped by a flower in subtle shades of purple and pink. Yuri didn't appreciate the beauty, only the deadliness of the vicious teeth that sprouted from within the petals. The plant lunged at Koudelka, pushing her flat on her back and holding her down. Yuri jumped in front of her, the pipe in his hand, and swung it at the flower head, beating it back with repeated swings; behind him, Koudelka got up and shook her head.

"Yuri, be careful," she called. "Keep it busy while I summon."

"Summon?" Yuri asked then beat on the plant some more. "Okay Koudelka, anything you want babe." With that Yuri jumped onto the roots of the plant, holding on with one hand and using the pipe like a hammer, beating on the stalk, bruising it and sending great shivers down to its roots. The flower head swung back and forth, trying to dislodge the offending insect, finally connecting just as Koudelka finished her summons. Yuri was flung back a good ten feet, sliding along the mossy ground on his back, but quickly jumped to his feet in time to see Koudelka's summons. Red energy enveloped her, and then arced across the intervening space toward the plant, exploding over the flower head in a ball of cascading fire. Yuri nodded in appreciation.

'The girl's got magic all right,' he thought then pursued pounding on the plant while Koudelka again summoned her fire magic. They repeated this pattern for a few minutes, Koudelka bathing the plant in burning flames and Yuri beating on the it with the pipe until it finally crumpled, its stem nearly hacked in half and the flower head with its teeth burnt and melting.

Yuri stood a little way off, the pipe in his hand and a grin of utter happiness on his young face. Koudelka herself shook out her hair and then indicated the priest.

"We should check on him, I suppose," she said and walked back to the fountain. Yuri's grin fell and he frowned, his lips pursed in distaste.

"Do we have to?" he muttered, then silently followed, pipe swinging loosely in one hand.

When they arrived back at the fountain, the priest was coming around; he was sitting up and rubbing the back of his neck and moaning.

"Oh, my head. What – what happened?" he asked and there were distinctive traces of an accent to his speech. When he realized he had company he looked up at Koudelka and Yuri and scowled. "Who on earth are _you_ two?"

"We're the ones saved your sorry ass, _priest_," Yuri growled.

"Little did I know," the priest said, rising, "that thieves and murderers would rescue a complete stranger." He dusted off his robes, looking around at the herb garden and at the dry fountain behind him. "It's broken now, but not long ago, pure holy water flowed from this font," he said sadly.

Koudelka stepped forward, offering her hand. "My name is Koudelka and this is Yuri," she said. "Would you mind telling us what you're doing here, on this path, and at Nemeton?"

The priest looked at the offered hand but did not take it. "My name is James; James O'Flaherty. I've been… searching… for something and my search brought me to this monastery. But I had no idea this place had become possessed."

"And you had no trouble before now? What about the caretakers?" Koudelka asked.

"Why, they let me in and gave me supper. Why?"

"They tried to kill us, mister priest," Yuri said, again growling at O'Flaherty.

"That's not funny," the priest exclaimed. "It's inappropriate for you to lie to an upstanding believer of the Christian faith."

"Of fu—" Yuri started but Koudelka held him off.

James turned, a frown creasing his aged brow, and knelt at the font. As he began to pray, there was a rumble from below and the water suddenly began to flow again.

"Air in the pipes maybe?" Yuri said. "Come on Koudelka, let's go."

Koudelka hesitated, but then nodded and turned toward the exit, but O'Flaherty suddenly rose, calling to them.

"Wait! Just a moment, please," he dusted off his trousers and long jacket, straightening his crucifix. "Although I am under the protection of Our Lord, it – it doesn't hurt to take precautionary measures," he said and his voice was that of a man granting a favor. "I think I'll go with you," he said.

Yuri's quick breath sounded more like a hiss as he lifted the pipe in his hand, threatening the older man. "And what the hell makes you think we want you along, priest?" he snarled.

Koudelka sighed, before opening the door to the herbarium. "Fine, I don't care either way," she said, hoping she hadn't just made a mistake.

They retraced their steps back to the staircase, passing he shattered remains of Koudelka's and Yuri's earlier encounter and climbing to the second floor. They took the short hallway to their right and through another door and into a small storage room filled with junk – Yuri kicking at boxes and turning others over to look within; Koudelka only paused a moment to watch with a rueful grin and a shake of her head before leaving, causing Yuri to scramble behind her. The next room was exposed to the outdoors, the roof missing, and the far walls crumbling down and broken. Cold winter wind blew through the room and, in one corner a lean-too had been built by some wandering visitor. It had been ransacked and the remains strewn throughout the room, the wind blowing the lighter pieces into the corners; but Yuri was quick to scour through the remains, then with a snort follow the others as they passed through this room too and took the far door, through yet another small storage room.

"Man these folks sure collect a lot of junk," Yuri said, kicking debris from his path as he followed Koudelka into a long dark hallway. The corridor passed over the main gates and, though there were torches on either side of the hallway, two and two, their flickering smoky light did little to illumine the darkness. Windows were evenly spaced in the stone walls and Yuri stopped to look out the right hand side and stare into the foggy night.

"Hey, these look outside the monastery," he observed and then realized the others had not stopped. Trotting, he caught up to them at the end of the hallway where James had stopped, and was looking out a window toward the inner courtyard, his expression a mixture of confusion and disgust.

"Such a dark and depressing place," he said softly. "Even with the church, I cannot feel the presence of the Lord's light."

Koudelka, standing next to him, shook her head, her laughter bitter. "There is no power of _light_ here, James. No _carpenter's son_ to do away with these evil spirits," she said and her voice dripped sarcasm. Something about James bothered her; not just that he was a priest with sanctimonious airs, but that he was hiding something. For that matter, that young Yuri was hiding something too; she wondered if she would be better off without either of them.

"Blasphemer!" James shouted, startling Koudelka and he turned on her and Yuri, his eyes suddenly alight with passion. "Pagans! How dare you..."

"Ah shut up priest, give it a rest," Yuri interrupted. "What did getting angry over religion ever get you but hungry at the end of the day."

James, turned toward Yuri with a retort on his lips, but was quickly silenced as the hallway suddenly rung with gunshots. Koudelka and James ducked down, but Yuri stood looking out the window at the fog-shrouded inner grounds of the monastery. To his right a building with barred windows caught the light from the moon, while the caretaker's quarters were below on the left; more buildings dotted the monastery grounds and Yuri caught the glow of moon-kissed statues near the church. Across from their window was the bulk of the old church, its tall steeple and bell-tower reaching up like an accusing finger to the roiling heavens. Dark clouds scudded across the full moon and Yuri scanned the area by the meager light for the shooter.

"Who the hell's shooting at us?" he snarled.

Koudelka reached up, grabbed his hand and pulled, forcing him to kneel down.

"You'll lose your head, fool!"

"Ah, it's probably those stupid caretakers," he said, kneeling next to window and still straining to see out. "The poison didn't work so now they use bullets; typical."

"Don't be ridiculous," James said, indignant. "Those kind, generous –"

"Humph," Yuri snorted. "Ask the bullet who's being ridiculous."

"_Stop it, you idiots!_" Koudelka hissed loudly and then turned to crawl away from the windows in disgust. Once away she stood and ran through the far door, Yuri and James right behind her. That door lead to an upper floor that had been converted into a prison, the brick, stone and mortar walls crumbling and dingy with centuries of dirt and filth. Yuri took the lead, pushing past James and walking down the corridor, his eyes scanning ahead for danger. He spotted a grey door to his left and pointed it out.

"Maybe you and James can check out what's in there? I can go on the rest of the way..." he said to Koudelka, pointing to where the corridor made a sharp turn.

"Look," James suddenly said from behind him, his own hand pointing at something at the far end. Yuri looked up to see a small child, maybe ten years old, standing at the end of the corridor. She wore an old-fashioned pink satin dress with lace at cuff and collar; she held an old china doll in one hand, and her hair was long and silvery blonde, and reminded Yuri of someone, someone important. The child stared intently at him for a minute before moving silently away.

'What the - ?' Curious, Yuri followed, catching up to her at the bend in the corridor and nearly walking off the end of the broken floor.

"Wait!" James said behind him and Yuri suddenly stopped, his next step going into mid-air.

"Whoa!"

The little girl was floating in the air in front of him; she turned to stare at him again and her eyes flashed a silver-purple color that made Yuri's hackles rise.

"You should have died, boy," the girl said, her voice childlike but full of malice. "I wanted you to lie down and die." She giggled, a hollow sound that continued to echo even as she faded through the opposite wall.

"A ghost?" James asked.

"Yeah," Yuri answered, shaken.

The two men turned back up the corridor and joined Koudelka. She had gone through the grey door and was looking around when they entered.

"Holy fucking shit!" Yuri exclaimed at sight of the room. "Somebody needs a good clean up crew."

"Holy Mother of God, preserve us," James whispered.

The room was piled high with corpses: hacked up, broken, rotting, and mummified, with parts of skeletons dotting the remains. Blood had oozed out onto the filthy floor and dried, staining the already grimy floor a rust color and the stench was that of a carnal pit. Yuri sniffed and James covered his mouth and nose.

"Nice place for a first date," Yuri said with a chuckle. He spotted Koudelka across the room looking at a small chest. She was kneeling by the it, her long fingers working a dial on the front.

"Say, what did ya find?" he asked, joining her.

Koudelka stood with a stretch and a sigh. "It's locked; probably nothing of importance anyway," and her shrug hid a tone of disappointment.

Yuri looked down at the small wooden chest and smirked. He brought one boot down on the lock box, smashing the sold lid, the lock, and cracking the box itself.

Koudelka looked up at him then down at the box.

"A master of persuasion aren't you," she muttered and knelt again, flicking aside bits of the lid to reach the box contents; it held a set of clothes, old and rotten, an old rusty knife and a brown book was set on top. Its leaves were of thick hand-made paper, the edges at one time silvered, but now dingy with age. She opened it and glanced through the first page.

"Here James, read of this place. It's a journal from a guard who worked here," Koudelka said and handed James the book, then rose, dusting her hands before pushing open another door to the chamber beyond. The room was once a bedchamber and a prison for whomever had stayed here. A small clothing press and dresser were on one side and an armoire on the other; straight ahead was a large bed, soft with feather stuffed mattresses and dusty with age. The walls were covered in portraits – all the same young woman: tall, willowy, long flowing red hair, fair features. Whoever she had been, she was lovely to behold. As they entered, James flicked his fingers through an old lace dress hanging haphazardly from the clothes press.

"My goodness, this place is full of dead things; bodies and skeletons and their belongings," James said quietly.

Yuri following closely on Koudelka's heels looked up at the portraits, his eyes scanning the visages for some clue to why they were there, while Koudelka approached the dusty bed.

"It's full of ghosts and spirits," she said, suddenly finding herself short of breath. "I can feel them," she said and then moaned, quickly sitting on the dusty bed, clutching her arms to her breast as if in pain. Yuri glanced at Koudelka and rushed to kneel at her feet, offering his hand to steady her.

"You all right, Koudelka? I –" he looked around the room at the portraits. "I've got a bad feeling about this place," he finally said.

Koudelka shook her head, refusing to take Yuri's offered hand, instead burying her face in her hands.

"This must have happened a long time ago; the power is so strong... I – I think I can channel some of these spirits. Maybe I can find out what happened here," she said, her voice muffled.

"Channel the spirits? You mean let them take you over?" Yuri asked.

"Shame on you!" James suddenly said from his side of the room. "You should be praying for them, not performing some black magic," he said with distaste. Koudelka ignored him.

"The spirits floating in this room ... I can let them possess my body so they can speak. The reason I came here is that I heard the cry of one particular female voice. If she –"

James snorted in disgust. "Enough of this!" he shouted, crossing the room quickly, reaching down to take Koudelka's arm. "I will not stand for this devilment! Not only do you not believe in God, but now you wish to disturb the spirits and commune with demons!"

Yuri rose quickly and stared at the elder priest, and his lips snarling. "Remove your hand, priest," he said, flicking aside James' hand before he could touch Koudelka. "And I'd be careful who you call demon, priest. You saved my neck out there," Yuri said indicating the outer corridor, "but that doesn't mean I won't put my fist through yer ugly, lying face. Shut up and let her work!" Yuri finished and his eyes had narrowed and shifted from their usual dark brown to amber, a flecking of crimson showing in the dimly lit room.

Meanwhile Koudelka had taken a deep breath and was concentrating, ignoring James' protests. She had her eyes screwed shut, her long fingered hands floating a breath away from her face, her breathing slowing. Suddenly she made a deep-throated sound that had Yuri's hackles standing.

"Chains," she moaned. "Chains and darkness. Death – oh, oh no... there were – there were so many of them in here..." Koudelka said, her breathing becoming erratic.

"What's going on? Koudelka?" Yuri said from beside her. He knew she was channeling the spirits, but had never seen it this intense before; not even when… he blinked, the name forgotten.

"They were imprisoned and tortured," Koudelka said after a moment, "thousands of them." Suddenly she lunged to her feet, knocking Yuri back in surprise. She turned sightless eyes onto James, her hand raised, finger pointing accusatively and spoke again, her voice reduced to a gravely snarl with a hint of an echo from beyond.

"Kill them! They cut off my fingers; they crushed my legs, smashed my head and cut out my guts!" she screamed at him. "They took everything from me, and they locked me up, and chopped my body...!" James stepped back, appalled and Koudelka screamed again, her voice suddenly ululating in a female timbre.

"My eyes! My ears! They're burned, oh god, oh help – help!"

Koudelka stepped back, tripping over Yuri and fell onto the bed before rolling again onto the floor, her body quivering with reaction. Yuri scrambled to her side and pulled her into his arms, holding her until her shivers subsided.

"How – how horrible," she whispered, her breath slowly returning to normal. "This place used to be a prison. For... for hundreds of years - kept in secret. Whoever went against the authorities or misconducted themselves in any way, were locked up here and – killed."

James frowned and moved to kneel down beside her but Koudelka suddenly sat up, her body rigid, and her eyes open and staring at the priest.

"No! Don't touch me!" she yelled and was instantly on her feet, pushing James back to the door, her eyes murderous. "You!" she growled, her voice suddenly dark and hollowly masculine. "Piss off! Go to hell!"

"Koudelka!" Yuri called and grabbed her from behind even as she was raising her hands to put them around James' throat. "Koudelka, come back to me," he said, and the young woman just as suddenly collapsed into his grasp, then slid to the floor, sobbing.

Shaken, James slid down the wall and watched as Yuri comforted the sobbing girl, the journal she had given him still gripped in his hand. Suddenly and inanely curious, he opened the dusty book and began to read.

Across the room, Yuri helped Koudelka to her feet and put her on the bed, holding one of her hands. He spoke softly to her, telling her it was fine, everything was all right; when he looked up into her dark eyes he was surprised for a moment that they weren't blue, but then shook it off.

"Oh, my Lord," they heard James mutter from near the door and Koudelka looked up at him. He was reading the journal, his usually self-absorbed expression altered to that of horror and compassion.

"What does it say, James?" she asked softly, her expression slowly coming back to normal, but her eyes still holding a touch of the horror she had seen and felt.

"This – this is terrible. This diary is written by a guard who came here in 1716. He had been a guard at Newgate before coming here. Sweet Lord, I can hardly believe this really happened. He says the guards tortured and maimed the prisoners on purpose, their - their intent to deliver only pain and suffering. Sweet Jesus," he paused and closed his eyes, a look of pain crossing his usually taciturn features. "The prisoners were here in their thousands, and of those numbered, at least 8000 had been killed within these walls – countless unnamed were tortured and killed as well. The guards were uncaring and ungodly in their efficient means of torture," James said, his usually controlled voice touched with compassion and a hollow sense of despair.

"And were they all murderers and thieves, James?" Yuri asked.

"Woman and children; husbands, wives..." James' voice slipped into silence.

"Don't tell me all these bodies here are the prisoners, James," Yuri said.

James shook his head, "No. There was a break-in, a revolt; those prisoners yet alive turned on their tormentors and ... delivered God's own justice." He crossed himself and tossed the book aside. "God have mercy on their souls," he said and clasped his hands in prayer.

"But – but not all of these were prisoners," Yuri said quietly, remembering the fresh blood and putrescent bodies amongst the old and moldering dead. Koudelka, wrapped safely in Yuri's arms, heaved a heavy sigh, and lingered for a moment before pushing away and climbing to her feet.

"Let's go," she said.

James stood up at the door and pulled it open, stepping through with Koudelka right behind him.

"All right," Yuri said, getting up from the bed and following, but stopped at the armoire next to the door. Without thinking about it, he pulled open the doors and was suddenly face to face with a tall, lithe female corpse, her body dried and withered to that of a mummy, her hair faded yet still with a strand or two of its once vibrant red, and dressed in a faded and tattered wedding dress – the same one in the portraits over the door.

"Shit!" he cried just as the mummy attacked him.

The dead bride climbed from the armoire and took several delicate steps toward him, her lithesome figure still beautiful even if she was a corpse. Yuri watched her closely, hearing Koudelka and James coming back in behind him and James beginning to mutter a prayer. Koudelka was concentrating and Yuri could feel her gathering magical energies into her hands and that meant he had to act to distract the mummy.

He jumped forward, using the pipe, and slammed it into the mummy's head, first one way then another, pulling off hair and bits of dried flesh with the impact. The mummy cried out, her voice like that of a woman in pain, and repaid him with a slap across his own face just as he moved back. Her hand was hard bones and long fingernails grown hard with age and she sliced his cheek with her nails, leaving a trail of blood running down his neck.

James, who had taken the handgun, fired a shot at the mummy before moving back behind Koudelka; she was ready with her spell now and raised her hand up, drawing down fire from the heavens, sending a column of fire at the mummified bride.

Yuri nodded, impressed. He liked her fighting style more and more, wishing he could learn her magical spells, but knowing he had never been very good at magic unless he used his fusions. He moved forward again, this time sending the pipe into the mummy's stomach like a spear, catching on her mummified insides and, twisting the pipe, pulled them out. The creature raised her head proudly, and howled in pain – a scream of power that sent a wave of energy rushing across the room and knocked all three of them to their backsides.

Yuri shook it off first, jumping in front of Koudelka, and giving her time to right herself and summon another spell.

"Come on James; shoot that gun or use magic or something here, eh?" Yuri called and jumped forward again, slashing down with the pipe, snagging the mummy's arm and shattering it at the elbow, sending shards of bone and flesh scattering to the floor like snow.

Again the dead bride retaliated with a slap toward Yuri, but he ducked and slammed the pipe again into her middle, tearing even more at the mummified guts. Behind him James called out a warning and then opened fire, sending five bullets into the mummy's chest, puncturing the delicate décolletage and ruining what must have been a beautiful bust line; Yuri grinned.

"That's how it's done," he said and swept his leg in under the mummy, catching her legs and sending her smashing to the ground just in time for Koudelka's second spell to unleash fiery fury at her. The flames cascaded over her and in a final wail of defiance and fury, the dead bride ignited, burning to a blackened crisp.

"Whew," Yuri said standing and dusting himself off. "That scared the shit outta me."

"Serves you right for opening the cabinet," James said as he reloaded the pistol.

Yuri frowned but then grinned. "Be glad I did – look!" he said and reached into the armoire, removing a rolled up rope ladder.

"You're right," Koudelka said eyeing the ladder. "You are good at scavenging. Let's get out of here."

They took the ladder to the end of the corridor where Yuri had almost fallen. On the crumbled and broken floor, there were two metal clamps that took the ends of the ladder and Yuri hooked them up and tossed the ladder over the side.

"You first James, then Koudelka."

Yuri waited as the two climbed down then swung his own long legs over the edge and slid down the rope, landing with a grunt on the broken stone floor below. He looked around at the dilapidated area, the walls and ceiling crumbling and caved in, the floor so decayed that it looked like they were walking on raw soil and the whole area was so dark Yuri could believe they were underground instead of on the first floor. Sighing, he followed Koudelka down the hall to the left. She was walking through another door when he caught up and her sudden shout of surprise made him rush through the door, the pipe hefted in his hand.

The room was relatively clean, the stone floor cracked and broken but otherwise unblemished. On one wall hung the faded remnants of a red velvet curtain while at the far end was a font, overshadowed by a stained glass window. The figure in the window was that of a man, stripped to only a clout, his body twisted in torment and pain. A placard on the frame said it was a Martyr of the Faith. And in the center of the room stood Koudelka and James, transfixed by the sight of two shades standing at the font, shadowy carbon copies of themselves. The James shade moved off to one corner while the Koudelka clone stepped forward, her arms raised to strike with magic.

Yuri huffed and ran forward to take Koudelka's side and almost instantly, another shadow emerged from the dry font; a dark visage shrouded in even darker shadows. It topped seven feet tall, eyes a deep purple and a set of wings spread out from its back, leathery black and tipped with sharp razor claws. On one arm a razor of bone was extended, its edge tinged with blood and claws curled from its fingers like iron nails.

"Ah fuck," Yuri exclaimed. "Not Amon." He hefted the pipe in his hand and looked at his two companions. There was no way either of them could handle the Lord of Dead Souls; that left him alone. James to his far right exclaimed in surprise at the huge demon, looking from it to Yuri and back.

"What shadow is this?" he asked and crossed himself, while Koudelka looked wide-eyed at the manifestation from hell.

"Um, you let me handle him, okay?" he said and offered Koudelka a lopsided grin. "It'll be fine. I – I know him pretty well."

"You _know_ him?" Koudelka's voice dripped sarcasm.

"Look, you just take on those other two and I'll deal with Amon, okay?" Yuri said and tossed down the useless pipe. "Trust me, that's all I ask," he said and reached within for a fusion.

Mentally he quickly reviewed his fusions; when he had first fought against Amon in Nemeton, he had used Sandalphon. But at that time, Amon had a Soul Contract with the warlock Albert Simon and was both strengthened by Simon and weakened by him. Additionally Yuri had companions who fought at his side and it was all three of them who had, ultimately, defeated the monster. But if this was a shadow of Amon as he was now, his own fusion soul, Yuri wondered if Sandalphon would be enough. He'd need something to fend off Amon's attacks and have the physical clout. With a sigh, he admitted to himself that only one other fusion could resist Amon and he wasn't going to use Seraphic Radiance. Grinding his teeth, he pulled the fusion from his soul and melded with it.

A blinding flash of darkness washed over the room and then Amon stepped out of the shadows and faced ... himself. Behind him, he heard both Koudelka's startled retort and James' shouted exhortation. But he could not concentrate on them right now; before him stood his mirror image, a massive demon of hellish proportions and he had to take it down before it could decimate the party.

With a roar, the shadow Amon leapt forward, its huge razor arm slashing down at Yuri. Yuri grabbed the arm and spun "Amon" away, slamming it against the velvet draped wall. The wall beneath him crumbled to dust, leaving a gaping hole; but the shadow climbed back onto his clawed feet and, with a flick of his wings, arced toward the ceiling, then dove down toward Yuri, his body ready to rip and rend but his eyes curiously vacant. Behind him, Yuri heard Koudelka intone the flare spell and James repeatedly shot at... himself – his own mirror image sending magical attacks at the remaining two. For a brief moment, Yuri wondered when James would use the magic that Koudelka had taught him, but then turned his concentration back to "Amon". The mirror fusion was inches away from ramming his huge razor into Yuri's face. Yuri moved away, letting the other fusion save himself from smashing into the paves while he summoned his own magic. Pulling the darkness around him with a wave of his arms, Yuri drew the power into his hands and then sent a lance of pulsing energy at "Amon", the lance cutting through the fusion's body and sending shadowy ichor splattering over the stone floor.

Behind him, Yuri heard Koudelka's scream of pain and he turned to see her collapse on the floor, blood congealing beneath her, the tell tale signs of fire magic showed in the smoke rising from her. Growling, he gathered another shroud of dark energy, this time sending it toward the woman and encasing her in its embrace. A moment later the energy formed a hard shell that cracked and burst and Koudelka, a bit shaken, rose from the floor completely healed. She turned grateful if frightened eyes onto Yuri and nodded before turning back to her own mirror image.

Meanwhile James had finally gotten near his own shadow and was firing bullet after bullet into it to no avail. Finally, out of ammunition, he threw the gun down in frustration and, crossing himself, began to summon magic. If he could have, Yuri would have smiled, as it was, "Amon" caught him with his back turned. The massive shadow had summoned his own magic and sent a lance of energy crackling into Yuri. It hit him like a nova, slamming him into the dry font, cracking the stonework and bathing it with his steaming black blood. But shaking his head Yuri came to his feet and, with one downward stroke of his wings, he was across the room, face to face with the shadow, pummeling and pounding and gouging his mirror image until "Amon" raised his arm to bring down the razor onto Yuri's head. But Yuri grabbed the arm, swinging it around and, capturing it against his own body, snapped it in half, tearing bone and muscle even as he ripped the arm from the mirror's body, then proceeded to use the razor on "Amon", slicing into his black visage, gouging into his armored belly, slicing down and tearing into its armor to eviscerate the shadowy fusion.

With a roar, "Amon" tried to summon magic one final time but before he could do more than provoke a little energy, Yuri was on him, his mouth open, long canines exposed in the candlelight and then clamping down onto "Amon's" neck, piercing the tough hide and ripping out his throat. With a gurgle, the shadow slid out of Yuri's grasp and faded even as it hit the floor. Yuri turned then to see Koudelka summon a flare once more, hitting her own mirror with one final spell as it too struggled to attack; the magic hit the mirror like a hammer and the shadowy body hit the floor in silence only to fade away. And across the room James was putting paid to his own shade, the greeny complexion of the shadow "James" turning dark as it slid to the floor and vanished.

With a sigh, Yuri released his fusion, returning to his human appearance and waiting for the inevitable reaction. It wasn't long in coming as James came at him with a bottle of holy water and splashed it in his face.

"Out demon in the name of our Blessed Lord Jesus!" he shouted.

Yuri wiped the water from his face, removing the flecks of blood from previous battles with it.

"Thanks for the water, James. I don't suppose you have any curative items; my back is killing me where that thing hit me." Yuri looked from the horrified James to Koudelka, standing quietly at the font, and sighed. "Look, I'm not a demon is that's what you think. I'm a fusionist - it's what I am; it's what I do. And I use it to protect people – not kill them."

"So says the devil," James intoned, still looking like he would exorcise Yuri if he could.

Yuri was half-tempted to choke the daylights out of the stupid priest.

"You are more than just an adventurer, Yuri. Why are you here?" Koudelka asked from the font, which now bubbled with water, a clean clear stream of it sliding down the broken bowl of the font and pooling around its base.

"Say, it's running again," Yuri said with a quirky smile and climbed onto the partially broken font and, dipping his hands into the clean water, splashed more onto his face and neck, wiping the rest of the blood off.

"Here," Koudelka said from next to him and Yuri looked up to see a bit of plant in her hand. "It should help the pain of your injury."

"Thanks," Yuri said and popped the small-leaved clipping into his mouth and chewed.

She watched him for a moment, her eyes bright and curious. "You didn't answer my question," she said and she almost hoped he wouldn't, afraid she might hear more than she wanted. Yuri nodded, chewing the last of the plant and swallowing. He ran his hands through his wet and messy hair, pushing it back over his head and revealing a tall forehead and bright eyes.

"It's true, I'm not here seeking my fortune, if that's what you mean," he said. He looked over at James. "Did you ever wonder about all the bodies, priest?" James' frown deepened, one hand coming up to clutch at a small crucifix revealed through the broken buttons of his shirt.

"I am a Bishop, not a priest," he said, "and no, I did not wonder about them. They're all fortune seekers, liars, and thieves anyway. This is still a monastery; this is still God's house – prison or no. Why all those heathens are killed is none of my concern."

"Spoken like a true man of the cloth," Yuri said with a sneer. "Some of them are old; others are not."

"I saw some pretty fresh ones," Koudelka added. "One who was shot, another had been cracked in the head with an axe – some with no visible signs of injury. They must have been poisoned."

"And your point is demon? You are as bad as any of those heathen dead; you have insinuated yourself here and are planning God only knows what evil," James said.

"For the last fuckin' time, priest, I am not a demon!" Yuri cried. "And we've got bigger problems than just your bigoted hatred for anything that doesn't fit into your picture of the universe."

"Yuri," Koudelka interrupted, "why are you here?" she asked again. "I found you upstairs - did you kill Edward?"

Yuri shook his head. "No, I told you; that monster killed him. That was a mistake. He's not supposed to be ..." Yuri stopped, suddenly realizing what he was about to say, and then shook his head. "This is just too confusing. I – I need to fix something I messed up. I'll stay here and protect you, both of you, until I can fix what I did wrong."

"What did you do wrong?" Koudelka asked, but then shook her head, running her hand through her hair to loosen a few tangles.

"No, no; I'm sorry. That's not my business. If you tell me you're here to help, then I'll just believe you... for now. But—"

"And?"

Koudelka sighed. "I've never met a demon I could trust," she said softly.

Yuri felt his heart sink. 'She thinks of me as...' "You can trust me. I'll protect you," he said and for a moment, the words echoed in his mind bringing a memory of a moonlit night in China, a pretty blonde... He blinked, wondering where he had been for a moment, and feeling the room shift around him; he felt dizzy then shook it off with an idiotic grin. "Man, all this talking is makin' me hungry," he said.

Koudelka looked up at him with raised eyebrows. "How can you by hungry at a time like this? And you already ate!" she said with exasperation.

Yuri rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, an' I spewed it up in the kitchen. And I always get hungry after a workout; especially when I fuse."

Koudelka snorted and pulled a piece of bread from her pouch. "Here, bottomless pit."

With a grin, Yuri took the bread and popped it into his mouth, chewing happily.

James had moved away, wandering around the room, checking the small altar, and Koudelka crossed to a door opposite the font, pushing it open to reveal yet another storage room. It was small, dark and piled high on three sides with crates and miscellaneous stuff, while the other wall, an outer wall, had two small slits for windows. After washing the bread down with another handful of water from the font, Yuri joined Koudelka, approaching the near window and looking outside; the night was still cloudy and through the open window slit, the cold wind was rushing through, bringing the smell of ocean salt and the nip of winter. With a sigh he turned to watch Koudelka.

'More junk,' Yuri thought as Koudelka search the rubbish. After a few minutes, James finished his investigation and joined them in the storage room.

"Koudelka, find anything?" James asked, as if nothing had happened.

"No, nothing..." Koudelka said from her squat near a trunk. She started to stand as James approached when there was an unexpected shiver in the old floor, followed by a loud cracking sound. Suddenly the floor splintered and Yuri, James, and Koudelka found themselves falling.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A/N: Once more, I don't own Koudelka or Shadow Hearts. But I'm selling James: Cheap! I don't think Darkannex ) would recognize his copy of Koudelka's script, but I thank him anyway. And thank you's go out to those intrepid readers who have braved this story – and reviewed.

With shouts of surprise, the three fell down into the dark as the ancient floor collapsed under their weight. They landed with a crunch onto a pile of old and brittle bones and broken stones and Yuri, lying on top, opened his eyes in time to see a shadow move above them in the old storage room.

"Hey!" he shouted, sitting up. "Hey you! Get back here!" but the shadow moved off leaving the three of them to sort out where they were.

"What was that all about?" James asked, sitting up and looking around, his coat dusty with shattered bones.

"I saw someone above," Yuri said, "but he's gone now." Yuri looked around the room and sighed. "Tsk, another damned cage; this place is full of prison cells!" he complained as he stood up, one booted heel crushing into a skull. Behind him, James was also rising and snorted with disgust.

The cell was large, affording room for nearly a dozen prisoners at one time; however now it was piled high with mummified corpses and skeletons. A miasma of death floated over the cell and the three prisoners checked for an escape route. One wall held chains for securing prisoners, their links red with dried blood and rust, while next to them were the cell bars, huge poles of metal still solid in their age; a door was also there, but locked. Koudelka pushed on the cell door.

"Oh, no good," she said, "it's solid."

James shook his head. "What do you mean? We can't get out?"

"Why don't you ask these guys?" Koudelka said, pointing at the piles of corpses.

"How hard can it be for thieves like you to get us out of a place like this?" James asked his face set in a sneer of contempt.

"James, stuff yerself!" Yuri said from across the cell. He had climbed over the pile of debris and corpses to investigate the other wall and, finding nothing, went to other vacant wall kicking at it in frustration before deciding to join Koudelka at the barred door. He knelt down to look inside the lock, and then looked around for something to pry it open.

"Say, do you have a knife I can maybe ruin?" he asked, reluctant to part with the dagger he had from before.

Koudelka pulled a thin bladed knife from her pack. "Here, but what do you think you can do?" she asked.

Yuri shrugged. "Don't know until I try. I might be able to pry the lock open." He slipped the dagger into the lock, twisting it around, trying to catch it on the inside lock, but it was rusted shut. He tried again but then stood, kicking the door with a curse.

"Ah shit; no good, damn it!"

"Yeah," Koudelka agreed, bending down to look at the lock and Yuri could smell her, the worn clothing a bit musty, and another scent, like spice. "You'd need the strength of a bear to break those bars with your hands," she commented. She looked at Yuri with a sharpness that told him she was thinking of something and he smiled.

"Or a fusion monster?" he responded quietly and for a moment, was lost in her eyes before she blinked and moved away. James snorted, shaking his head, and indicating Yuri and Koudelka with an angry gesture.

"I can't believe I'm wasting my time on you," he commented.

"Nobody asked you to," Yuri offered snidely but James continued, ignoring him.

"I'm on a mission from God…"

Before either Koudelka or Yuri could comment further however, familiar laughter tinkled in the air, sending shivers down Yuri's spine. He looked up, outside the cell, and watched as a young girl materialized in the air, floating just on the other side of the bars. It was the same young girl he had seen upstairs, the one with the long silver blonde hair.

"What a waste… a terrible waste," she said and her voice echoed as if from a long way away. "My name is Charlotte," she said with a touch of coquetry in her voice, "not that it means anything; not that you have a prayer," she said and floated closer to the bars, an amused look on her delicate features. She laughed again and a hint of sarcasm entered her voice, "I'm talking to three dead people. No one's going to save you - no one."

Koudelka stepped closer to the bars and looked at the shimmering specter of a child. She still held her doll close in one hand, its face painted on white bisque, with ruby lips, and vacant eyes; and Koudelka gestured toward the girl.

"So, you died here as well?"

The spectral child nodded, her silver-blonde locks floating like gossamer behind her.

"Yes, I died here too - hundreds and hundreds of years ago. My mother left me here the day that I was born," her voice was soft and wistful but then turned hard and dripped with sarcasm. "They beheaded me the day I turned nine. 'Happy Birthday'. I've been trapped here ever since, and no one even knows who I am."

James came closer to the bars and reached a hand through, fingers extended toward Charlotte.

"My poor, little angel," he said softly.

"Angel?" Charlotte said, her hollow voice becoming shrill. "Save your pity for yourselves; you'll all be dead in three days."

Undeterred, James reached further toward the ghostly girl. "I don't know what your circumstances were, but I know that your mother loved you very, very much," he said, his voice placating.

"My mother?" Charlotte exclaimed, a look of hate filling her nearly lavender eyes, and she stared hard at the priest. "I don't know her face, her name, where she came from … nothing." Charlotte's voice dripped with her bitter anger and she looked at Yuri, Koudelka, and James with flashing eyes. "From the day I was born 'til the day I died, no one ever loved me. And I never want to be loved! Just die! All of you, just die!" her voice rose to a shrill screech before she faded into nothingness.

"Well, that was …" Yuri started and then, hearing something rustle behind him, spun around to see a shadow beginning to manifest in the room. "Uh-oh, we got company!" he cried and pulled the dagger from his coat pocket. Koudelka and James spun around in time to see Yuri attack. What he faced was something akin to a ghost; a tall noble looking dead man, a yellow-feathered hat on his head, and a long saber held upright in his left hand. Even as Yuri leapt forward, the nobleman raised his sword and thrust at the fusionist, forcing Yuri to swerve and only land a glancing blow against the nobleman's satin clothing.

Koudelka began to murmur, summoning her flare magic, and James pulled out the pistol and unloaded into their attacker. Yuri spun around as the last shots died away and scissored his long legs into the nobleman, spinning him around and forcing him to reset himself before he could lunge at James. The creature made a grunt of frustration and then sliced downward with his sword, grazing Yuri's coat as he spun away again.

"Damnit! That's my favorite coat!" he cursed and then vented his anger with a series of vicious punches and kicks that moved the ghostly grandee back against the empty stone wall.

"Yuri, move!" Koudelka called and let fly with her summoned magic, sending a cascade of fire bursting over the aristocrat. The spectral creature growled in renewed frustration, raised his sword, this time to summon his own magic, which appeared quickly as a barrage of lightening that sent Koudelka and James to their knees, and knocked Yuri face down on the filthy floor.

"God damned stupid shit - damn," Yuri muttered and climbed to his feet, taking the dagger in hand once more and surging forward, slicing and stabbing at the blue blood. Behind him, he could hear James's muttered deprecations about his swearing and ignored it, instead concentrating on slicing upward inside the nobleman's guard and hacking a chunk out of his sword arm. The creature dropped his sword down, turning the movement into an attack and slicing through Yuri's back, cutting his trench coat to ribbons.

Yuri fell to one knee, awash in pain even as James's pistol once more sent reports into the echoing prison cell. Koudelka leapt forward as well, one foot shoving Yuri aside as she swung the pipe downward and into the noble's head, smashing the skull. With a moan, the nobleman collapsed to the floor and vanished. Koudelka knelt beside Yuri, pulling the slivers of trench coat away from his back and checking the damage.

"You'll live but your back looks terrible," she said and put down the pipe. "Here, I owe you this." She raised her hands over Yuri's now prostrate form and concentrated, pulling magical energy into her hands and sending it down in a shower of green tinted health into his body. Yuri groaned, the magic's raw effect of knitting his sliced flesh and muscles, causing as much pain as the initial injury. After a minute Koudelka sighed and stood.

"Say, look at the wall," James said and Koudelka turned to look. James was standing by the stone wall, once vacant and now cracked and pockmarked with striations. "If we try we should be able to dislodge some of this stonework," James said and tried pushing against the wall, to no avail. Yuri climbed to his feet, pocketing the knife, and shrugging his shoulders to loosen them.

"Here, let me," he said and climbed a small pile of corpses to get closer to the wall. He pushed against it, and then turned to Koudelka. "Let me have that pipe, will you?" And when Koudelka relinquished the pipe, he jammed it into a crack in the wall and pushed against it. Dust and bits of stone rustled then shifted, falling inward to pile at Yuri's booted feet along with the now bent pipe. Yuri looked through the hole in the wall and grimaced.

"It's another prison cell – sort of. Hold yer nose though," he said and climbed through.

They climbed through the broken wall and stepped down into a torture chamber. To their left was a vertical rack, a corpse hanging from it, parts of its body still hanging in tatters and slivers, the meat still fresh. And on a table in front of them lay a female, her body stripped and hacked, her arms severed at the joints, her belly slit open and her entrails sliding down the side of the table. Flies still swarmed around the thick sticky pools of blood that congealed beneath the table.

"Still a little too fresh," Yuri said, sniffing. Koudelka and James both covered their mouths and noses, crossing the room to the far door as quickly as possible. On his way to join them Yuri spotted a mace leaning against the dissection table and picked it up, then climbed the stairs and followed James through to a dark chamber; a door to their right was sealed shut, with no sign of a key.

"This place is like a rat's nest," Yuri muttered.

Koudelka had moved ahead and pushed open another door at the bottom of a shallow stair. "This way," she called and stepped through into an underground tunnel.

"I am beginning to agree with Yuri," James said with a sigh. "It's like a maze down here."

Yuri snorted as he followed Koudelka through the dim and green-cast tunnel. The walls looked like they had been hand carved from their birth rock and there was a greenish cast to the stone that, when Yuri looked closer, appeared a bit like lichen, glowing with its own feeble light. A pile of bones was on one side, the moldering remains of clothing indicated these had been here for centuries. At the end of the corridor was another door and Yuri opened it quickly, hoping for fresh air or stairs – both disappointed him, and instead they were faced with another chamber, this one darker than the corridor they had just left. On their right was a large metal container with a spigot. James looked at the markings on the container and shrugged.

"Acid," he said. "A septic tank."

Yuri was standing at a rusting chain guard that ran around a deep depression in the earth; far below, he could see the dark surge of water, and listening, he thought he heard the surf. But the crevasse itself was dark, broken in many places and smelled of sewage. Behind them, Koudelka had taken the left hand path, following it around to the other side of the crevasse and a broken door. She tried to peer through but could see nothing on the other side, so she returned toward the others; that's when she spotted a glimmer of light.

"In here," she called and Yuri looked up to see her disappear between two broken pillars. A moment later, she screamed.

When Yuri and James rounded the pillars, they skidded to a halt, frozen by a nightmare. Koudelka stood on a platform, all carved with runes and sigils. Beyond her was a large fountain and pool awash in blood-red water and writhing in front of her was a being of pure insanity. Roughly humanoid, it towered nearly ten feet in height, with its head in its chest, one mad yellow eye wiggling in its socket, its mouth open in a soundless scream, while on its hunched shoulders rose another head, sightless. Instead of two arms with hands, it had appendages with two fleshy skulls for hands that writhed and wriggled as if trying to escape. It seemed to float over the seal platform, its bottom half was insect-like with several smaller legs with pinchers and two front legs, longer than the others, with long, sharp pinchers; the over-all appearance was of a man merged with a mutant, wingless fly.

"Sweet Jesus preserve us," James said, crossing himself.

"Amen," Yuri agreed then, hefting the mace, jumped up to Koudelka's side. She was muttering - summoning magic even as he and James deployed to either side and Yuri leapt forward, mace swinging.

His first blow was glancing as the mad flying insect turned to avoid his attack, but Yuri let the momentum carry him forward and he turned around, still swinging, and landed a hard blow to the creature's gut, just below its gap-mouthed face. It made a moaning sound, and its skull hands wiggled and gyrated and Yuri managed to duck just in time as it swung at him and instead, met Koudelka's flame attack. Behind him, James had crossed himself again and he too was muttering, summoning magic. Yuri spared a smirk of satisfaction at the priest's capitulation.

James' spell was complete and Yuri felt the freezing cold of ice as it formed above the monk and he moved aside as a cascade of ice shards fell from above, their razor sharp points slicing into the fly and Yuri followed through with another swing of his mace, hard into the mad creature's gut. With a snap, the haft broke and the momentum of his swing sent Yuri into the monster's grasp. Strange alien hands, like ectoplasm, grabbed him and began to shake him like a rag doll while the lower pinchers came up and tried to eviscerate him. Yuri felt his teeth rattling in his head and he yelled out a warning to Koudelka and James.

"Stay back!" Ignoring the pain of the mauling he was receiving, Yuri reached in and merged with a fusion soul. His body elongated, long fingered claws replacing his hands, a strong, muscular tail growing from his backside, his skin became cold, clammy and blue and his vision changed to multi-faceted hues as he fused to a water monster, Egil, and with a slash of his tail and a rake of his claws, he freed himself from the mad thing's grasp. With a flip, he somersaulted away, landing in front of Koudelka and James.

Large tail lashing in eager delight, Egil swayed for a moment, working his own magic, which manifested as a rainbow of light washing over him, helping his natural agility and offering a little healing. He then jumped forward again, lashing with his tail, pummeling the mad apparition several times before slipping away even as it tried to retaliate. With his mouth open, razor sharp teeth exposed, Egil looked like he was grinning in amusement; he then hunkered low, summoning a more powerful magic, bringing forth an icy cascade – spikes of ice thrust down onto the creature, piercing its body and its scream of pain and madness was painful to the ears.

Koudelka had moved to one side, avoiding the fusion's tail and began a fire summoning, trusting that the monster in front of her wouldn't turn and attack her next. James, even more unsure than usual, had pulled further back, offering instead to support and heal if need be, even as he loaded another round of cartridges into his pistol.

Koudelka's flare burst over the mad monstrosity and seconds later, another icy assault pounded it. Almost at once the fly-like creature retaliated, sending out a cry that brought forth dark energies that clouded above their heads, and then crashed down, leaving James and Koudelka wheezing, both poisoned. Egil's tail came back around and slammed into the crazy fly, pushing it back a few feet; he then moved back to Koudelka and James. With one sharp claw he indicated Koudelka's pouch, but the lady shook her head.

"No, I used the last of the antidote on you," she said.

The blue-skinned fusion shook its head, multi-faceted eyes looking from her and then back to the monster, before shrugging its massive shoulders. A moment later the form blurred, melting down into Yuri once more.

"I can fix that, but I'll need some listel when I'm done; and then we'll both have to pound that thing for all we're worth," he said.

"All right," Koudelka agreed. "I- I trust you."

"Good," Yuri said with a grin. "You should."

Once again he reached within and in a heartbeat his body began to blur, growing to nearly seven feet. Muscular, massive, fiery red, Yuri stood before them now as his fusion Inferno, and before James could scream in wide-eyed panic, he summoned his warm healing energies and bathed them both, Koudelka first then James. Instantly the poisons running through their bodies dissipated and both were returned to good health, if a little weak. Then with a nod of his massive head, Inferno returned to the attack, his four heavily muscled arms pounding and gouging into the creature's body, giving Koudelka and James time to summon their own magical attacks. And once they were ready, Inferno moved back, letting their magic soften up the creature for his own fire magic. Koudelka hit the monstrosity with her fiery flare, James used an icy cascade, and before it could react again, Inferno summoned a huge fireball and sent it exploding into the monster. With a screech, the mad flying monstrosity shivered, faded, and then vanished and Yuri released the fusion, falling to one knee to catch his breath.

Ahead, the blood-red waters gurgled then shimmered, changing to purest blue and revealing a statue of a beautiful woman standing against the far wall, arms reaching out in benediction. James went to the font and, kneeling down, took up a handful of the water and washed his face, murmuring a prayer of thanksgiving, while Koudelka took a small bottle of listel and offered it to Yuri.

"Thanks," he said and sat down, putting his back to a broken pillar.

Koudelka knelt beside him, looking him over carefully, healing his wounds, even as he popped the cork of the aromatic rose wine and took a gulp.

"Yuri, just what are you," she asked.

Yuri sighed and offered her a sip of the wine as well. "I'm a man." He watched her drink, catching the delicate movement of her white throat against the black lace on her neck, and his eyes followed that down to the black lace bustier that nestled softly around her comely breasts.

Koudelka took a drink of the fruity wine and handed it back to him. "Not like any other man," she said, ignoring his eyes. "Not like James."

"God I hope not," he said with a soft laugh. "You gotta promise not to freak, Koudelka. If I tell ya, you can't freak on me. I – I couldn't stand it if you did," he said, watching her closely. Eyes cast down in thought, she looked so beautiful and he wanted to reach out and caress her, but then her eyes rose and looked deeply into his own and he felt a strange tingling in his mind and his body.

'There's so much I want to know; so much I want to ask … he's dangerous,' she was thought. "All right, I promise," she said.

"I – you know how you hear voices and all? It's 'cause yer psychotic," he began.

Koudelka laughed. "Psychic; but sometimes you're right."

Yuri grinned. "Well, I hear 'em too sometimes; an' I see things. Ghosts, spirits; zombies, that kinda shit. It's cuz I'm a harmonixer. I can take the souls of those creatures I kill and use 'em to form fusion monsters. Like Inferno there, or Egil. It's still me, but I have the powers they would have had in life; and their strengths and weaknesses too."

"And in the priest's quarters - what was that thing you fought? And that thing you became? Was that you too?"

Yuri nodded, finishing the listel and setting the bottle down. "Yeah; that was Amon. He's not a fusion soul; he's a monster that I killed – capturing its soul to use as my own weapon." Yuri's mouth formed a crooked smile and he cocked his head to one side. "He's dangerous. But I like him; he's powerful too."

Koudelka nodded and looked over toward James who was now kneeling in silent prayer at the fountain.

"Why are you here, Yuri? I want to know. I know it's not my business, and I said I wouldn't ask but – why are you here?"

Yuri looked up at the beautifully exotic gypsy woman kneeling by his side and he felt his smile melt away at her words.

"I told ya, I'm trying to fix what I messed up."

With a sigh, Koudelka settled back on her heels, her hands folding into her lap.

"So tell me, what did you mess up?"

Yuri sighed and looked down at his shredded trench coat, the same coat he had worn all the way from China; he was supposed to replace it, but…

"I accidentally killed someone; someone important - and now everything's changing – changed. My wife is dead," he began, and the last words brought him a choking sob, his throat suddenly tight. "My wife, and our baby, is dead… and, and I can't even remember who she is, what she looked like." He pulled his legs up and put his head down on his knees, covering his face with his arms, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to erupt from deep within him. Why was he crying, he wondered. He hardly remembered…

"Try to remember Yuri; what was her name?" Koudelka asked.

Yuri closed his eyes, shutting them shut tightly, holding his breath as he tried to pull a memory, an image, anything from his mind. "I - I can't remember. I can't…" he paused, raising his head and took a deep breath. "Something about Charlotte reminds me of her, but I can't… I've got to fix it, 'cause that one death changed everything. My wife and baby, me… Hell!" he exclaimed, "the whole fuckin' world!"

Koudelka frowned at his words and then tilted her head slightly, trying to see his face and he caught her eyes, shining with an inner light of their own.

"I came from China, ya know?" he said. "My mom was killed and my dad never came back; he was dead too and I was on my own until I heard a voice tell me what to do. God I hated that voice!" and he rubbed the back of his neck avoiding Koudelka's gaze for a moment for he did remember, inexplicably, that the voice had been her's. "But it told me things to do, and I got strong. And then there was the train. I," he hesitated, frowning – screwing up his eyes to try to see back just two years ago. "I was supposed to protect someone. But now that person's dead - killed by a mad warlock in Shanghai and me, me I'm dead too I suppose and shit, the whole world's next unless I fix my mess."

Koudelka sighed. "You are a confused young man, Yuri," she said.

"Heh, I'm older than you!" he said and dropped his head back to his knees again.

"I – I can almost see the vortex of changes around you," she said softly, and reached out to place her hands on either side of his head. Yuri looked up and found himself face to face with Koudelka, her eyes suddenly pupil-less and pulsing with a power that made his heart flutter.

"You are the eye of whatever this storm is, Yuri. Whatever this death was… whatever it was you did or did not do, it's making changes even as we speak."

"Yeah," he said softly. "I know; and he's dead too."

"Who?" Koudelka asked, startled.

"Edward. That was another mistake." He jerked back suddenly, hearing the scrape of shoes along the platform. James had risen and approached silently, sitting at the edge of the sigils platform and listening. Yuri looked back at Koudelka. "It's all my fault somehow. I don't know how to fix it, Koudelka, but maybe by the time this is all over, I will. And meantime, I'll protect you. Both of you. You'll come out of this alive and well, I promise."

"I believe you," Koudelka said, touching his hand and rose to her feet. "I suppose we should be going. Are you all right, James?"

James nodded, his eyes never leaving Yuri. "Yes. Yes, by the grace of God."

Together they left the font and followed the underground passage to another door, pushing it inward they found yet another corridor, aglow and sickly green with lichen. This one too had its share of corpses, ancient and broken; and a string of chains along one side of the floor that made them speculate over unknown horrors. Yuri stopped and picked up another box of cartridges, offering them to James who silently put them in his pouch. After a few minutes they reached the end, and yet another door greeted them, and Yuri stopped Koudelka from pushing it.

"I swear, if this leads to another corridor, I'm grabbing the gun and shooting James," he said with a grin and then pushed open the door. Looking around he saw a large storage room, piled high with gleaming treasure: crates, cases, and boxes all filled with art, paintings, bolts of cloth and glittering gold and jewels. "Nah James, you got off lucky," Yuri said and chuckled.

James frowned as he pushed past Yuri and came to a dead stop in front of him. His eyes widened in surprise and amazement as he took in the contents of the chamber. Slowly he wandered around the room, poking into first one crate, then a nearby barrel. A cloth-covered pile was to his right and he pulled off the dusty, filthy material to reveal a stack of paintings, all standing on their gilded frames.

"This is amazing; absolutely amazing," he said with tones of wonder in his voice. "I can't believe these treasures are in this monastery." He bent low to look at one painting. "Is that Montagna's signature? Oh! That's a Caravaggio… unbelievable! Truly! Why have these treasures been left here and forgotten?"

Koudelka watched as James wandered around the room and snorted with derision at his question. "Treasures?" she scoffed. "Do you remember what this place is James?" she demanded.

"Yes, I know what this place is. But – if these lost treasures could be contributed to the Vatican, their value to Christianity would be unquantifiable!"

"Idiot," Yuri muttered from across the room. He had been rummaging through the bins and pulled a quiver filled with quarrels: long, thin, straight arrows. Curious he continued his searching.

"This place was a prison James!" Koudelka continued. "People were executed for fighting each other for supremacy! These treasures must have been taken from them. Soaked with curses and hatred; these treasures are cursed, and you'll be cursed if you worship those things." James, however, was not listening. He continued to check the paintings until Yuri, in disgust, came over behind him and booted him in the butt. James spun around and caught Yuri's swallowed laughter.

"I am a busy man that does not have the time or the patience to teach you the things of faith," he said to Koudelka and with a glare at Yuri added, "But I will tell you why we have found these things… it could only have come from the guidance of God. God sees all, He knows all."

"An' I kicked his ugly ass," Yuri muttered.

James turned in disgust and walked toward the two waiting doors. His dramatic exit was stymied however when the first door refused to open, so he opened the second and stepped through. Koudelka turned amused eyes onto her remaining companion.

"You kicked God's ugly ass?" she asked.

"Yup; one of my better days," Yuri answered. "Hey!" he exclaimed, spotting a strange weapon sitting in the shadows behind her. "Ah, so that's what it is," he said as he hefted a large bow gun and showed Koudelka the quiver of arrows.

"Hm, hold on to those, Yuri," she said. "We may need them."

"Okay, but we better catch up to Mister 'I am on a mission from God' before something decides to send him heavenward." Yuri slung the bow gun from his shoulder and stepped through into the next room. James was investigating a plaque in the wall.

"It appears to be a statue, plastered into the wall," he said. "How strange."

Yuri ignored it and took the staircase at the other end of the room. "Come on James; above ground finally," Yuri said with a grin.

Another door was at the top of the stairs and, on the doorpost, was painted several symbols. Yuri paused, staring at the symbols until James came up and walked through. Koudelka joined Yuri and they looked at the symbols.

"A bottle, a pitchfork, a mirror and an eyeball? These people are strange," Yuri commented.

Koudelka sighed. "Must mean something," she said.

"Yeah, but what? The people who live here … why would they draw it? What's it for?"

"I don't know Yuri."

With a shrug Yuri followed James into the next room in time to see James pulling a stone slab from the nearby wall.

"Oh, so now you're a thief, James?"

"Heathen," James growled.

Yuri laughed. "Preach to the converted. And don't be walkin' off alone James - it's dangerous."

"Do you really care, heathen?" James asked, inspecting the stone tablet. Yuri was walking around the room, picking up cushions from the furniture and scrounging for anything useful.

"You know, I don't really care one way or the other about you, priest, so save me the holy crap."

"I believe these dead thieves are better than you two," James responded, a scowl deepening his already lined face. "At least they appreciated true value."

Koudelka too had begun investigating the room and stopped at a small table; a stuffed bear was sitting on the edge, with a letter pinned to its belly.

"Instead of preaching, I want you to understand something okay?" Koudelka said from across the room. "You can't label all those dead bodies as thieves hunting treasure. I saw plenty of dead women that were chopped up and mixed in with the mummies. And they were pretty fresh."  
  
"Yeah, it's strange. If I weren't used to seeing dead bodies, I'd be vomiting," Yuri said.  
  
"So it is that couple…" Koudelka muttered and read the letter pinned to the bear, then folded it and put it in her pouch.

"Fools! How could such a kind and faithful couple be cold-hearted killers? This is the work of - jealousy and greed, and pagans born of savagery, and - and immigrants. I will not be a party to such abusive slander. This is… this is so unpleasant…" James shook his head, his face wrinkled with disgust and he placed the tablet in his pouch.

"Not half as unpleasant as ending up dead, or roasting on a spit, or churning up inside some monster's belly, or…"

"Yuri," Koudelka interrupted. "Shut up."

A/N: one brave reviewer thought this was a "lovely story". Um, I don't know what Incredible One thinks is lovely, but hopefully this hasn't scared her (?) off. This piece will be long, and I apologize up front for any delays; I am further along that this, believe me! We all know the drill: Life Interferes!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A/N: I still don't own anything, not even the script. And like all the other chapters, this one is rated "R" for Yuri being a foul mouth, Koudelka being Sexy and James being an Ass – not necessarily in that order.

The only other exit from the room was another door and Koudelka opened it, stopping in her tracks at the sudden near darkness. The room was large and very dim, with only a handful of candles flickering in their sconces. One wall was piled high with crates, still closed with their labels peeling only slightly. Across the room was another door, but what got her attention was the font in the middle of the near left wall.

James pushed through behind her and stopped, exclaiming.

"What a beautiful font!" the walls around the font were gilded, the scrollwork fine and detailed with a pair of matching sconces with ghostly yellow candle light flickering; beneath the scrollwork panels the walls were worked in blue tiles veined in gold – the entire image was one of opulence. Two tall gilded columns framed the fountain platform but the font, made of marble, was blackened and dry, the basin was barren.

Yuri approached the font with a curious gaze, remembering that every fountain they'd come to had a monster lurking. As it turned out, this one was no exception. Yuri had no sooner put his boot to the platform when a huge dark creature lumbered out of the shadows. It stood well over twelve feet tall and looked, to Yuri's eyes, like a giant walking tree trunk! Its five legs were like great black columns, while its body was thick and blocky and the skin had whorls like tree bark with a long, vicious slash running perpendicular that opened to reveal rows of sharp teeth. For limbs it had four huge tentacles that reached upward, sweeping back and forth and no sooner had the others joined him but the creature attacked, whipping its branches around and slamming them into Yuri, flattening him on the marble of the platform and pressing him down with its weight.

Yuri, his face pushed to the marble floor, heard Koudelka's shout and a moment later the explosion of her flare magic before the creature moved off of him and he rose slowly; he pressed a hand to his ribs but they were only sore, not broken. Meanwhile James was summoning a barrage of ice, but the creature shook it off like nothing and then moved swiftly to slam into the elder priest, sending him smashing into a nearby pillar. Yuri unslung the bow gun and fit a quarrel into the slot, moving into the creature's path as it lumbered toward Koudelka. He waited, counting heartbeats until it was six feet from the young psychic before he let fly the arrow, sending it into the creature's body with a hollow thunk. Yuri growled and fished another quarrel from the quiver, moving in closer as he did so.

Koudelka was also moving, skipping out of the creature's path just as it reached her, skirting around to do a quick examination of James. The priest was dazed but coming around so she stepped back into the monster's shadow and summoned wind magic while James climbed to his knees and tried earth forces, summoning an earthquake. Koudelka's came more rapidly and a blast of wind struck the dark monster and twisted it around, eliciting a scream from it, and Yuri followed up with another arrow to its middle. But before James could finish his summons the creature changed tactics; raising its tentacles straight over its head, it suddenly let fly with a dark magic, a barrage of lightening that floored all three of them.

Pain washed over Yuri like a constant and unwelcome companion as he climbed to his knees first, setting another quarrel in his bow gun, and then letting fly before the others had recovered. He counted seven arrows left in the quiver and hoped they'd be enough. With a glance at Koudelka and James he loaded and fired again, and wondered why they weren't using their magic; but when he tried to call out to them, he discovered why: the creature's magic had constricted his vocal cords, silencing him! Yuri's teeth ground in frustration – there was no way he could do it alone with only arrows. He jumped up, ignoring the scream of pain that accompanied the sudden movement, and ran around the creature's near side, barely avoiding another swing of its massive tentacles and, catching up Koudelka, pulled her away. He handed her the bow gun and quiver and indicated she should shoot.

With a puzzled shrug she took the weapon and Yuri nodded at the creature and smiled, the feral look in his eyes telling her exactly what he planned to do. Koudelka loaded the bow gun and watched as Yuri moved back around the creature, swiping at it with his fist to distract it away from Koudelka and the priest. He did a little two-step in front of it, teasing the monster to follow him and it did, moving away from his silenced companions and further out into the room. The tentacles swung again, clipping him in the shoulder and sending another wave of pain to join the others that already assailed him, but Yuri rolled with the blow and came up grinning madly.

Eyes glowing a rich amber he reached within for a fusion. He'd seen the reaction of the monster to Koudelka's magical attack and heard its cry of pain. That gave him an idea. In the next instant he felt his body growing lighter, his arms elongating and itching as feathers sprouted over them and then down his body. His legs twisted and his feet grew talons and his now sleek and lightweight form launched itself into the air, floating with barely a down-stroke of his wings. He eyed the dark monster with sharp eagle-like vision and then fluttered his wings, calling forth the wind. The air around him began to churn and then with a negligent stroke of his wings, it became a gale that arced across the room and sliced through the monster, tangling its tentacles and rocking it on its thick legs. From behind, Koudelka let fly a quarrel and then ran to move away from the writhing tentacles as the monster attempted to pound her into dust. James followed her as she ran across the room to get behind the flying fusion that was Tornado.

The black monster whipped around and raised its tentacles again, straight and tall and sparking with dark energies. In a heartbeat, the magic exploded from the tips once more and Koudelka and James ducked conveniently behind the bird-like creature ahead of them. Tornado took the brunt of the electrical discharge, floundering for a moment only before flicking its wings, summoning magical winds once more. In another moment, blades of wind exploded from beneath sleek wings and sheared through the thick tentacles, one slicing it off just above the body. A geyser of black fluid gushed from the wound and Yuri took advantage of the sudden disability, swooping in to rake and claw the creature with his talons. When he moved away again, Koudelka followed up with another arrow.

The monster began to sway, its remaining tentacles moving in a distressing movement, jerky and confused. Yuri flew back over the creature and sliced at its limbs, yawing out of the way as one whipped out to smack him. He came around next to James and, feathers ruffled, eyes focused, summoned one more wind attack, spending his last ounce of strength to shear through the monster's gut, causing it to collapse onto itself and, with a noisome gurgle and an oozing of black ichor, it slid to the floor and faded into nothingness.

Yuri released his fusion and collapsed panting to the worn carpet. Koudelka set down the bow gun and ran to his side, one hand reaching into her pouch for recovery items while the other waived off James. With a shrug, James climbed up to the font and checked it, noting the blackened marble was beginning to glow in the candlelight. In another minute clear water began gurgling up into the basin. James crossed himself.

"Are you all right Yuri? That thing hit you pretty hard," Koudelka asked, offering a piece of stale bread and a slice of pungent cheese.

Yuri swallowed the proffered food with barely a chew and then sat on his heels, trying to control his panting.

"Yeah, I'll be okay. It took a lot out of me though and … well, shit, wind magic has never been my favorite attack. My arms get tired," he said with a feeble grin. "Got any more listel?"

Koudelka nodded but then pointed at the font, now flowing freely and babbling like a brook. "Why don't we try the font this time, okay? Holy water is supposed to be refreshing."

"Says a priest anyhow," Yuri said and stood with a groan. He approached the font and climbed up onto the platform. The marble basin now shone with an eerie bluish light and the water gurgled happily, bubbling up from below. He took a handful, drank it down, then another, and washed his face and neck with it, before taking another mouthful to drink. Standing there, leaning on the font, his eyes closed, and his face relaxed, he felt the holy water washing away the fatigue, injuries and pain and filling him with cool healing and relief. A smile wormed its way across his face and he turned to James who was standing to one side, watching.

"It is refreshing," he said and stepped back down to the floor and crossed the room without another word.

"Call no faith false which e'er hath brought Relief to any laden life, Cessation to the pain of thought, Refreshment mid the dust of strife," 1 James quoted and Yuri turned back to look at him.

"Are you sayin' something there James, 'cuz I don't get it," Yuri commented.

James shook his head, "It's like throwing mana to donkeys," he replied.

"Mana? I thought you used listel. You been holdin' out on me, buddy," Yuri quipped and then laughed. "I got ya. It's not that I hate you or yer religion, James," Yuri said and pushed open the door at the far end of the room and held it open for James and Koudelka to follow. "It's that I don't like bigots. Too many of them in my lifetime, and you don't seem to like foreigners. That's me all over, bud."

The room they entered had once been a large dining hall, with a staircase climbing up to the second floor and wrapping itself around near the ceiling. There was a still elegant chandelier of wrought iron and cut-glass suspended from the apex of the ceiling while along another wall were displayed more paintings of sinking ships and, at one-time, elegant women. Crates and cases were also stacked along the wall, some piled high enough to reach a great bronze door well above their heads. Yuri pointed it out to Koudelka.

"Think that's the door I couldn't open before?" he asked.

"Possibly," she replied and began to cross the room, James and Yuri a few steps behind her.

"Let me ask ya something, James," Yuri began, "Do you always blame everything on the _savagery_ of us un-believers and immigrants? Or is it just that men of the cloth are full of hate?"

James scowled then shook his head. "It's senseless to tell you this, as you have admitted being a foreign devil. But the truth is, your kind are the great unwashed of the world. God, in His love, tolerates you, but you'll never be more than ignorant, filthy, brutal savages..."

From above them came a gun shot, its report echoing in the large room, and Yuri, looking up, caught a glimpse of movement above them on the stairs.

"Look out!" he shouted and ran to push Koudelka out of harm's way, for the gunshot had severed the rope holding the chandelier from the ceiling and the huge metal and glass fixture came crashing down. Pushed away, Koudelka went skidding across the stone floor while James leapt to the side; but the tail of Yuri's trench coat was snagged by the lamp and shoved him to the floor, pinning his legs beneath it.

"Yuri!" Koudelka cried out and checked above them for any movement but there was none. She ran back across the hall and knelt at Yuri's side. "Yuri, are you all right?"

Yuri groaned as he moved beneath the chandelier, twisting and turning to free his legs. "Yeah, I'm just caught," he said and then looked up at Koudelka, catching her as she stood up again and watching the long expanse of her legs, and he craned to catch a glimpse of...

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, looking down. "Pull yourself out of there and let's get going."

Yuri chuckled. "Yeah, but it's a nice view," he said and quickly regretted it as Koudelka's boot met his ribs. "Ouch, ouch, ouch, ah, you don't have to play hard to get for god's sake," he muttered and worked to pull himself free.

"Did the shots come from up there?" James asked, pointing up to the second floor.

"Yeah, I thought I saw someone too. Be careful," Yuri answered, finally pulling himself free with a wrenching tear that ripped the rest of his coat to shreds. "Ah damn."

"Never mind the coat," Koudelka said and started up the creaking wooden stairs.

As they turned on the first landing, Yuri strained to see the upper balcony but there were crates piled at one end and Yuri had a feeling they could easily hide their shooter. He pushed past Koudelka and took the stairs two at a time, making the upper landing ahead of the others and, with the dagger in one hand and a scowling expression, made his determined way toward the boxes. A heartbeat later a shadow moved in the background and shots fired. With a growl, Yuri burst into a sprint, covering the remaining balcony walkway in seconds and plowing into a pile of boxes, scattering them. The shooter was now behind the second set of crates and began firing directly onto Yuri, but his nervous shots pinged off crates, boxes and the far wall and missed the fusionist.

By now, James had caught up and had opened fire with his pistol, but the crates were in the way so he moved aside for Koudelka's fire magic to ignite the wooden containers, sending the first batch into a flaming pyre. Yuri had jumped over the boxes he'd scattered and had pursued the shooter who now ran around to the other side of the crates, but when he was faced with fire instead, he turned and fired rapidly at Yuri. One slug found its way into Yuri's shoulder, but the fusionist shook it off with a grunt, grabbed the other's shirtfront, and pulled him onto the waiting dagger. But the point was turned away and in the next instant, the shooter had pushed away and was reloading his pistol. More bullets followed the first ones and Yuri found himself dodging fire that is more accurate until he finally decided it was too dangerous and backed away.

"Look out!" Koudelka shouted as her flare magic erupted again and the remaining crates burst into flames.

"Bastard's got on some kind of armor," Yuri said as he returned to Koudelka's side, his hand pressing hard on the bleeding shoulder. "Turned the knife aside like nothin'."

"Perhaps magic then?" and with that she summoned another spell, sending ice shards crashing down onto their assailant to no avail.

Behind him, Yuri could hear James summoning another spell and he moved away, letting the priest have a clear shot. He watched the two of them for a moment as Koudelka changed to fire magic once more. The shooter hunched down to reload and Yuri took the opportunity to try a fusion, one that could hurl fire much stronger than anything Koudelka or James could summon with their magic. A moment of concentration and Yuri fused his soul once more, this time with a seven foot red giant what screamed power and destruction. Unlike his earlier fire fusion Inferno, Forron was not something to trifle with.

Yuri towered over James and Koudelka who, seeing the massive fusion, moved back. Forron moved forward a few steps and gestured, defining the area of his attack with his hands and his mind and then summoned his fire magic. The balcony and landing began to shake and rumble, dust filtering down from the ceiling as well and suddenly the floor opened before them, a huge pit of darkness splitting the floor in two and the rumble turned to the screams of a million voices – the laments of the damned as the a huge gate rose from the darkness. Another rumble began, this one deeper, and the gates were suddenly flung wide, great gouts of sulfuric fire pouring out to flood the landing, searing and charring everything in its path, including the remaining crates and their assailant. And as the fire receded and Yuri released his fusion, they watched as the shooter collapsed to the now clear floor, his clothing smoking with char and revealing armor.

Yuri ran back across to the man and kicked the gun out of his hand and, hauling him up, slammed him against the wall.

"You bastard," Yuri growled, pounding the man's head against the wall. "Who are you, an' why the hell are you shootin' at us?"

"E – Elias," the man said with a groan of pain.

"He's the one sneaking around in the shadows and sniffing for treasure," Koudelka said as she joined them.

"Yeah, an' probably the one I saw looking down on us in that cell. Why didn't you help, ya bastard?" Yuri added before shoving the man down onto the floor where he collapsed once more.

James, brushing off his coat as if removing some noisome soil, joined them. "Well sir, explain yourself? It's plain as day that this ruffian is the bloodthirsty killer that's been chasing us!" he exclaimed. The man, in pain, frowned but said nothing. "Where are you from? Hamburg? Not that it matters; you're obviously a dirty immigrant – probably infected with cholera or something..."

"It's none of your business where I'm from, you bastard!" the man finally said, his voice revealing his foreignness as James had suspected, and then groaned when Yuri kicked him.

"I don't care where you were born," Koudelka said, moving closer. "And I agree he is a bastard – but tell me, did you kill all those people?" and she nodded toward the stairs.

"Look, I'm an immigrant, an' a thief, and maybe I did drop a chandelier on you... but that's just 'cause I wanted the whole thing to myself," Elias answered, squinting up at Koudelka. "But I never killed those people."

"Then who did?" Yuri asked, kneeling down next to the thief. He wanted to look the man in the face to judge his words.

"It was that old couple; I swear to God..." Elias said and looked up at James, "not _your_ god..."

"You're saying it was that kind married couple? You liar!" James exclaimed, moving in with a raised fist before recollecting himself and moving away as if from an infected beast.

"It _was_ them; the ones that take care o' this place. I've seen 'em! I've been down here a couple of months now, scouring th' place. They'll use an axe when they catch thieves. Thieves come down here unarmed... they're stupid," the man said and paused to catch his breath.

"Unbelievable," James retorted.

"No," Elias continued, "I tell you, the lucky ones die in th' first strike! I've heard the others screaming through the night – clutchin' their bellies. I find them in th' morning dead – no! Oh, I'm telling you the truth!" The thief was sagging against the wall, one arm clutching his side where the fire had scorched off his clothing and where his armor was not buckled. "Those two, they're Satan incarnate," he continued after a moment. "I may be a thief, but I'm not a killer; and th' more wholesome they look on the outside, the colder and uglier the heart is on th' inside," and Elias looked up at James, "just look at him!"

Yuri snorted. "Yeah, good assessment," he said.

James pointed at the wounded thief, his own features crinkling into a deep frown. "You're crazy if you believe this scoundrel! This killer has obviously executed hundreds of people. He needs to be turned over to the police and judged..."

"We're crazy?" Koudelka interrupted, "Why, because he's a dirty immigrant? Or is it because he is one of the _unsaved_? That's bull and you know it you pig-headed _bigot_!"

James turned to Koudelka, his hand raised as if to cuff her but Yuri stood and quickly caught the arm, holding it unmoving in a vice-like grip.

"I believe him," he said quietly. "Thieves can be very honest ya know," he continued and let James' arm fall free. James rubbed the feeling back into his numb wrist and moved away from Yuri, once again feeling wary around the admitted thief and monster. "Still, ya did try ta kill us," Yuri continued and his voice grew cold and his eyes darkened to nearly black. He moved back to the thief and before either James or Koudelka could stop him, he pulled back one fist and sent it slamming into the thief's face, crushing his nose, eyes and forehead with the force of the blow and sending a shower of blood spattering along the wall.

"What did you do that for?" James cried in shock and knelt by the dead man's side as Yuri rose and shook the blood from his hand.

"Can't trust him not to try again. This way is better," Yuri said.

Neither James nor Koudelka commented and Yuri bent beside the cooling corpse and methodically searched the body, ignoring James' quiet Pater Noster. He removed the ill-fitting armored vest and, giving it a critical eye, handed it toward James.

"Here, this looks like it would fit you," he said.

"What! You would rob the dead?" James exclaimed with distaste.

Yuri looked over at the priest and scowled. "Fine, but don't expect me to waste any magic healing you when you get hurt."

James hesitated and looked toward Koudelka but no sympathy came from her. Instead, she too had knelt down and was pulling off the padding that the thief wore under the armored vest and inspected it. With a nod, she pulled it on, tying the laces in front. James took the armor and Yuri stood and helped him strap it on under his coat, then he went back to searching the corpse. In all they relieved the dead man of his armor and padding, his double-action pistol and several boxes of extra rounds; he also wore several brooches that Koudelka laughed at when she found them.

"Well this explains his resistance to everything but fire," she said showing off one brooch. It was shaped like a small, wide shield with blue enamel inlaid in one part and faded silver whorls in the chevron pattern. "A water brooch," she said and pinned it on.

Yuri took the other braces, and gave one to James, showing him how to use it; they were leather and brass for the most part, with odd sigils engraved in the brass pieces, and would afford minimal protection from physical assault but a little better help than mere coat sleeves against magic.

"Are you anticipating magical enemies?" James asked, adjusting the brace on his arm.

"Well, we've already seen several; and I just like to be prepared is all. Never hurts to be ready in case," Yuri answered.

Koudelka stood and showed the last of the items she had pulled from the thief's pouch: a handful of miscellaneous medicines, a half dozen small bottles of listel, which the non-magic using thief must have thought mere wine, and a small leather bag with bread, cheese and dried food, mostly fish.

"Ahh, good, we can eat," Yuri said with a grin and Koudelka chuckled as she put the items into her own pouch.

"Shall we go?"

"What's next do you think?" Yuri asked no one in particular as he approached the door at the end of the landing. "Let me guess," he said, "another store room."

He swung open the door and snorted. James looked over his shoulder and laughed quietly.

"Good guess," he said. "What's this? A puzzle?"

All three entered the room and stared at the floor. It was laid out like a checkerboard, with four squares from right to left and four from bottom to top. Each square had a symbol in it and Koudelka and James stood looking at it while Yuri crossed the floor to the door opposite.

"It's locked," he said and turned in disgust toward the others. "What's with the puzzle, Koudelka? Does it mean anything?"

Koudelka was staring at the patterns on the floor. "I'm not sure."

James walked out and stopped in the middle of one square, knelt and pressed onto the floor. He repeated this over several other squares before finally turning with a scowl.

"It's a pressure puzzle. We step on the right squares in the right order to open the door," he said. "I've seen similar at the Vatican; an interesting conundrum as we have no clues regarding the symbols. Did we miss some hidden room or something?" he turned to Yuri.

Yuri shrugged. "Yeah, we probably did; no keys for some of them and doors too thick to open. But we should be able to figure this out, yes? You're both smart; you knew it was a – a pressure floor," and he indicated James with a wave of his left hand.

"That doesn't solve the puzzle however," James retorted.

"James come over here, Yuri get back," Koudelka said and stepped up to a puzzle square. She stepped into the center of the square and then took another step to the second row. Nothing happened. "Where should I go from here?"

Yuri was standing next to the fourth row, his boot next to a trident. He looked at the pitchfork and blinked. Next to it was something that looked like an eye.

"Say, Koudelka, remember the stairwell? We were looking at those funny symbols on the doorjamb. These four here," and he pointed at the four symbols painted onto the floor. "What if these are the symbols you have to stand on to open the door?"

Koudelka looked at the four symbols and followed them from where Yuri was standing to the middle of the checkerboard. "We'd still have to figure out how to get to them Yuri. They end here, in the middle," she said.

Yuri was chewing his lower lip and pacing back and forth like a caged lion, scowling at the floor.

"Well what if you step on the one below the bottle, then follow the path to the middle and go down toward James?" he suggested.

Koudelka tried it, starting from James' side and tracing the pattern of symbols. When she got to Yuri's side, he tried the door. Nothing happened.

"God damn," the fusionist cursed.

"Yuri, if you please," James admonished with a deepening scowl. "God will grant us wisdom if some would only have faith."

Yuri looked across the room at James and wished he was close enough to hit. "I don't believe in yer religion, James. I don't care. I believe in me, 'cause that's all I've had. Now if you can come up with the answer to this puzzle, then I might listen. _Might_," he said. 'But not soon,' he thought and waited for James to suggest something.

James paced back and forth, his hands steepled in front of him as if in prayer. He seemed oblivious as he paced first to the left and looked at the marked squares, and then returned to the right. Finally, with a sigh, he looked at Koudelka.

"I think the designer of this puzzle must have been steeped in forbidden magic; there have been sigils and runes carved everyplace we've gone, including onto the Lord's fonts. I remember reading once, while studying at the Vatican, that many ancient occult forces were involved with numbers - three, seven and nine being prominent. I think nine might be the answer here."

Koudelka looked at James with a look of surprise. "Of course," she exclaimed. "My teacher often mentioned things like that. Three was the Trinity – father, mother, and child. Nine was the number of the universe."

"Your teacher?" James asked as he moved back to let Koudelka stand at the beginning again.

"Madame Blavatsky. She took me in and raised me; and helped me hone my psychic skills. I – I haven't thought of her in a few years – not since she passed away."

"So what's that about nine and stuff?" Yuri asked.

"It's quite simple," James said, sounding like a school lecturer. "If the number of the world is nine, then all things must add up to or reduce down to nine. In this case we have four symbols, the bottle, the pitchfork, the mirror and the eyeball, as you so eloquently described them." James was smiling as he said that, knowing full well that Yuri wouldn't know the true names of the markings.

"James, don't be mean," Koudelka muttered and pointed out the four symbols in question. "A bottle of elixir, Neptune, Mercury and Prestor John's All Seeing Eye," she said. James snorted. "Four symbols. And a need to make five more to add up to nine."

Yuri pointed at a jug and a mixing bowl leading off from the bottle. "Well, there's three right there, and the triangle where you start at yer feet."

"But that's only eight," Koudelka said, then pointed at another painted block just beyond the last known symbol. "Either that one, or this one," and she then pointed to the one closest to her.

"Well, try them then," James said.

"Okay, triangle, bowl, jug and then bottle," Koudelka walked the path she named and then stopped. "Now what? Go back to jug?"

"No, go forward Koudelka," James suggested. "Take the arrow, then return, like Mercury in retrograde."

Koudelka smiled and did as suggested, stepping onto the square with an arrow then returning to the bottle.

"And now pitchfork, eyeball and mirror," Yuri said grinning and moved out of Koudelka's way. They all heard the click as the door unlocked when Koudelka stepped on the last square. "We did it!"

* * *

1 Sir Lewis Morris, 1833-1907, "Tolerance". 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

A/N: Nope, I haven't inherited a gazillion dollars so I don't own Shadow Hearts or Koudelka – although I played SH2 in Japanese. See, I'm a masochist! More James being a nudge, Koudelka being sexy, and Yuri being … well, Yuri. And I hope I haven't bored you all to tears.

The trio stepped through a narrow hallway and onto the second floor of a library. To their right and left were tall, ancient bookcases, the kind with grillwork and locks. With a light in his eyes, James scurried to the nearest shelf and began looking at the books while Yuri and Koudelka went down the hall to another door. Beyond was yet another small room, possibly an office with a huge fireplace filled with debris and a desk against the far wall. In addition, there was a metal safe in the corner. Koudelka investigated the safe while Yuri rummaged.

"Find anything Yuri?" Koudelka asked after turning from the safe in disgust.

"Nah, nothin' but junk, you?"

"No, unfortunately. The combination is in Greek; it could take days to figure it out. Maybe later if we have time." She looked up at Yuri as he clapped his hands to remove the dust. "Say, where's your backpack?"

Yuri felt behind him and snorted. "I remember I was carrying it when we came in downstairs. I bet it's beneath the chandelier. Ah damn, I'll go get it," he said and, turning abruptly, retraced his steps back down to the old dining hall. When he returned he had an odd look on his face and went hunting for James. The priest had wandered further down the corridor toward a bricked-up doorway and a descending staircase, when Yuri caught up to him.

"Hey James, found something," he said with a grin trying hard not to show. When the priest turned to see what Yuri offered, he was face to face with a mummified hand, one finger missing and another broken yet hanging from a bit of bone.

"Good grief! Yuri what are you doing?" James exclaimed, jumping back a few feet and crossing himself.

"Eh-heh-heh," Yuri laughed. "I found it with my pack. Musta been on the chandelier. It's a mummy's hand. Wonder who it belonged to?"

James stared at the relic for almost a minute before taking the offering in hand, turning it over and investigating it thoroughly.

"I – I think this might be the relic of Daniel Scotius," he said with reverence in his voice.

"Who? That dead saint guy that built this place?" Yuri asked.

"Indeed," James said and opening his pack, removed a silk handkerchief and wrapped the arm carefully. "I'll just keep this, why don't I?" James said.

Yuri shook himself and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, a look of childish glee crossing his countenance before he could swallow it. "Well, I guess so, but I was thinkin' it would go good with lunch."

James almost dropped the hand as he was putting it in his pouch and Koudelka, who had come up behind, gave Yuri a kick to the shins.

"Behave yourself," she said but she obviously was trying hard not to laugh as well.

"Heathen unbelievers," James snarled.

"Ah don't get yer knickers in a bunch," Yuri said with a grin. "I'm only kiddin'."

"One of these days you'll go to far," Koudelka said and pushed them both aside to descend to the main library floor. She was greeted by a large relief hanging on one wall above a strangely constructed grandfather clock; it was a series of black enameled boxes with an antique gold face set in the top one, the hands reflecting the hour and the counterbalance ticking softly within the box below. Curiously, the boxes could be used to climb up to the relief above. Another set of bookcases were across the floor, and just beyond, another door. But first, she climbed up the clock and checked out the relief; it turned out to be a large piece of ceramic art, pieced together with bits of glass and metal to form a holy picture. It was hanging in a large ornate frame and one piece had been broken from it. Looking closely she noticed that the missing piece would have joined to form a key for the lock that glinted beneath it.

"There's something beyond here," she said as she climbed down, "but someone removed the key. If we find it we can return."

Yuri nodded and pointed at the far door. "James already went in. He's getting brave."

"Or stupid."

It proved to be fortuitous however as James had discovered several old printing presses in the room and was fiddling with them when Koudelka and Yuri arrived. He had to borrow parts from a broken press but got the remaining press operational and was placing the stone slab he had obtained earlier into the machine.

"What is that for?" Yuri asked, watching him.

"The stone is a template; I think it's a map of this monastery," James answered and, setting the slab carefully, rolled some ink onto it and then placed paper into the press. A moment later, he pulled the thick paper from the press and showed it to them. It was indeed a map, much more detailed than the brief sketch Yuri had found in the attic. This one showed the underground passages they had just been through as well as a couple of others not yet found. It indicated doors they had missed, and the doors to the church. Yuri grinned.

"Yup, that's the map all right," he said and James looked at him and frowned.

"That's what I just said." James looked at the map and pointed at a wall next to the broken press. "There should be a door there," he said.

"Well, there's a door here," Yuri pointed at the door on the other side of the old printing press; it had a dull plaque on it and, grinning like a child, walked across the room and opened it. "What's an archive?" Yuri asked but then shrugged as he stepped through. "Ah, just another closet, with _another_ door." The closet was a narrow access corridor, brick lined and with a pile of crates at one end. "What's with this place and closets anyway?" he asked rhetorically and approached the other door. "Hey, there's carved places in the door for statues or something," he poked at the door then rattled the knob. "Ah screw it!" he put his back to the nearby wall and kicked hard once, twice and on the third time, the lock snapped and the door swung open. "That's better," he said and walked in. "Hey more books and … Ah Fuck!" he yelled.

Koudelka and James had remained in the printing room, James laying the map out on the press and both looking closely at it. But when they heard Yuri's shout, both ran through to the closet sized room and then into the archives. One wall was stacked high again with crates, open to reveal books and manuscripts spilling out onto the floor, while two more walls sported floor to ceiling shelves overflowing with more books and large tomes. In the middle of this huge shelf was a holy font with the Madonna and Child waiting in dingy darkness. And in the middle of the room was Yuri, defending himself from a monster.

Roughly human shaped, it had a woman's torso and frame but two bent and twisted talons sprang from the knees replacing the lower legs and feet. And instead of a head, she had three long necks rising up from her body with the heads of a goat, a lion, and a white-maned old man. Yuri was trying to defend himself from the three thrashing heads and as Koudelka and James arrived, and the goat head was just turning and issued a black miasma of magic that swept over the three of them and rendered them mute.

Frustration was on Yuri's face like a mask and Koudelka clapped her hands and pointed at the goat head. Yuri heard and nodded, taking her instructions to keep on that one head. He pulled the knife from his belt and moved in for an attack, avoiding the swing of one head as it moved around to swat him. James meanwhile had put fresh cartridges in the double action pistol and began to take careful aim, hoping to hit a vulnerable spot, and Koudelka was digging through her pouch for panaceas; finding one, she took it and immediately began to summon a fire spell.

Yuri had dashed to the other side of the creature, dodging heads and sharp taloned feet and slicing and stabbing with the knife. He managed to graze the chimera's backside, which distracted it while Koudelka finished her summons. Her fire magic exploded over the three-headed creature and it shrugged it off, little feeling the merciless blaze.

Yuri shook his head and shrugged as he moved off, letting the last of the fire melt away. If fire magic would not hurt it, possibly something else would and in the meantime he needed something stronger than a mere knife blade to do some damage. His vocal chords were still constricted making speech or magic impossible, but he had a fusion that was head and feet better than magic: the Mad Bull. He yanked that fusion hard and merged with it before he took his next breath, his face a rictus of howling anger that could only be seen not heard. Standing a little over six feet, Mad Bull had two things the other fusions didn't have: in addition to his clawed hands, he had sharp hooves and very large, very deadly horns. These he put to immediate use, swinging his massive neck, Yuri thrust his horns into the first writhing snake-like neck that got within striking distance, his horn sliding down through muscle and sinew and leaving a trail of blood.

Koudelka moved behind the monster as Yuri, now a raging bull, was battling the chimera and keeping it occupied so she was able to move back toward James and offer him a panacea as well. Together they began summoning spells - ice, and wind, to see what damage could be done to the grotesque creature. Koudelka's ice broke over the monster first, sending frozen shards cascading over it, coating its body in a thick rime. James' wind attack came next but except for tangling the sinewy necks for a moment, the wind did little damage. Meanwhile Yuri continued his battering attack, kicking one massive hoof into the upper torso, tearing off a glistening blood and rime soaked breast and then whirling around, barreling into the monster's belly, sending his horns slicing into the soft tissue and, when he pulled out, trailing entrails and black blood on his horns, and dripping down his face.

Even as the Mad Bull pulled back for another attack, Koudelka let fly with more icy shards, puncturing the monster's body. One of its heads reared back, open mouth issuing a red crackle of energy that arced across the room and struck James and Koudelka, sending them crashing into the far wall, stunned. That left Yuri alone to deal with the three-headed monster. With a grunt, he moved in to grab the lion-maned head, the one that had disabled his companions. Catching the sinewy neck in his clawed hands, he began twisting it, wrapping it around his fist, snapping the bones, and once the head itself was within his reach, he grabbed it. The mouth tried biting him, vicious teeth snapping and snarling at him like a rabid dog, but Yuri ignored it and simply bringing pressure to bear on the head, crushing it. Blood and brains spilled over his hand and down his arm to drip like rain onto the floor beneath him. He did not stop there however, as he used the stump of the neck to pull the creature closer and then, placing one hoofed foot on its chest, bore down, pinning it to the floor while he proceeded to remove the remaining heads in a similar bloody manner.

Half way through the decapitation the silencing spell faded and the room was now filled with Mad Bull's deep-throated growls and grunts of pleasure. Behind him, Koudelka and James were beginning to revive and they both looked on in horror as the creature that had been Yuri shredded his way through the chimera, adding a final stomp with hoofed feet and, with his head raised high, issued an open-mouthed bellow that rattled the rafters.

James was crossing himself as Yuri released his fusion, shaking his head and grinning demonically, blood still dripping down his face.

"That was fun!" he crowed then saw his companion's faces. James' look of disgusted horror he had expected, but Koudelka was another matter; her eyes were narrowed and she was chewing her lower lip in trepidation.

"Look, I don't eat people, _come on_!" Yuri cajoled. "I did it to protect us. What? I should have let it kill us?"

"If you hadn't walked in here alone this wouldn't have happened," Koudelka reminded him.

Yuri rubbed the back of his neck and then noticed the blood. He made a breathy sigh and looked around; the font across the room had suddenly started bubbling noisily and he went over to it, scooping up handfuls of water, and sluicing his face and neck, wiping away the worst of the blood and entrails.

"Dear Lord," James suddenly said, his voice quiet but holding surprise. He had walked over to the farthest bookshelf and was looking from book to book, studying their spines, pulling out individual books to read their fronts.

"What is it, James?" Koudelka asked and joined him. Yuri shook the water from his head and followed.

"This one's Phileus, and this Landsbric, and Michael Mayer," James was muttering quietly, then read a few titles off in Latin. "What a collection of books!" he said, turning to them with excitement in his eyes.

"So what are all these?" Koudelka asked.

"They're ancient books on mysticism and the occult - ancient science. Enticing really, it's all about making gold from lead – _rubbish_! It's all a ruse peddled by power hungry tricksters blinded by greed. But here amongst the trash there are some valuable works illustrating basic scientific principles; experiments for predicting the laws of nature – and predicting a time when all men will be treated equally in God's will. There's no room for this argument nowadays," James answered and turned to continue scanning the shelves.

"Sounds like Albert," muttered Yuri.

"This is the Kaballah … meaningless! Why? Why is it not here? Where else could it be?"

"James, what are you looking for?" Koudelka pressed.

Yuri was watching James pull volumes from the shelves and shook his head. "The secrets of the universe; death, birth, rebirth," he muttered.

James looked startled as he turned to Yuri. "What?"

"Why don't you just admit what it is you're looking for, priest? It's not some big secret or anything," Yuri continued.

"Yuri…"

"I mean, it's only a stupid book, and shit, we'll find it sooner or later," he said. Suddenly Yuri blinked, looking sheepish. "What did I say?" he looked from James to Koudelka.

Koudelka walked over to Yuri and placed her hand on his forehead. "You're not running a fever; are you feeling all right? You've been acting stranger than usual," she said.

"Yeah, well, I probably need a bath is all," Yuri said. Yuri turned and climbing the font once more, took a handful of water to drink before striding purposefully from the archives.

"He's mad, Koudelka, you know that," James said quietly, coming to her side.

"Yes; but is it a man-made madness? Or one brought on by the Gods?"

James frowned. "Like in the myths? You think he's touched by the Hand of God? Rubbish."

"Then you explain it to me, James. He knows things; or remembers things or … I don't know." Koudelka gestured after the retreating Yuri and then sighed. "But I trust him; I have to."

"Why?" James asked. "He could kill us all."

"Yes he could. But he hasn't. And I don't think he will." Koudelka rubbed a hand across her forehead before straightening her hair in its band. "He told me he's here to right a wrong; those kind are often touched by madness. Come on, let's go."

They left the archives and went back to the printing room only to discover there was another door opening out to another section of the church. Yuri had apparently taken it upon himself to punch open the cracked wall and reveal a wooden door. Koudelka and James went through the door and out into a small courtyard paved in stones. It was fenced with a wrought iron gate that James tried but could not open.

"Is it rusted shut do you think?" Koudelka asked.

"No," James said bending down to look at the lock. "It is rusty but probably needs a key."

Koudelka shrugged and crossed the courtyard to enter into the vestry where she ran into Yuri coming out.

"Say I was just looking for you," he said. "Here; that missing key thing you were talking about," Yuri said and handed Koudelka a piece of the ceramic relief. She looked down at the artifact and then up at Yuri.

"Are you going to go haring off on your own now, Yuri?" she asked.

"What – me? No, no. I was just… I don't know," he said, rubbing the back of his neck with guilt before shrugging as if nothing had happened. "But anyway, there's a door into the church down the corridor. But…"

"Good we should go there now," James said, pushing past the harmonixer.

"Nope," Yuri said and grabbed James by the back of his cassock, swinging him around. "Not until we check out that relief," he said.

"It can wait Yuri," Koudelka began and then found herself being escorted by the elbow. "Wait! What are you doing?"

"You said you wanted to check it out, so we're checking it out," Yuri said, dragging James behind him.

"Stop this you madman," James shouted and pulled free, setting his clothing to rights. "You are out of your mind!"

"No, it's all right James. Yuri," Koudelka began, "is there something we must see? Is that it?"

Yuri looked down at the lovely lady on his arm and smiled. "Yes," he said, "Yes, we must see somebody. It's important."

Koudelka nodded. "All right. James and I will go with you to the relief."

Yuri grinned affably and pulled her quickly along back through the printing room and out to the strange clock. Taking the piece of ceramic, Koudelka climbed back up the clock and, standing on tiptoe, inserted the piece into the slot. There was a click and suddenly the wall in front of her shifted, then rose into the ceiling. Surprised, she climbed up to the hidden room. The room was small, with mosaic tiles and a door on her left. She checked the door but there was no handle to open it, nor would pushing it render results. Then she looked at the floor; the mosaic of tiles made no pattern, but there were five depressions in the floor. When she stepped on one, a note sounded. Startled she turned toward the opening and watched as James and Yuri climbed up.

"Oh, you'll need this," he said and offered a small music box.

"Where did you find this?" she asked.

Yuri shrugged. "I don't remember exactly."

Koudelka opened the small music box and listened as it played a simple tune, just five notes long; it repeated itself three times then suddenly stopped, the mechanism broken. But Koudelka had listened and went to the depressions and tapped on one with her foot, eliciting a tone. She then went to each of the five depressions and tapping, made note of the tones before going back to the beginning and repeating the process, duplicating the tune of the music box.

Yuri stood grinning like a proud husband, his eyes alight. And as the last note faded, another click signaled an open door. Yuri went and pushed in the other door and strode confidently in.

The next room was equally small and piled high with books while leaves of manuscripts were scattered on the floor. In one corner, next to a dead fireplace, was a small wooden coffin, barely big enough to fit a man. The three stood at the stained wooden box and stared.

"Well?" Yuri asked.

"Okay, let's give it a try," Koudelka said and the two men took opposite sides of the box and shoved, pushing the lid off to let it crash to the floor. Inside the coffin lay a human body; small, extremely thin, its skin brown and dry like paper.

"What is that? A- a mummy?" James asked.

"Nah, it's just Roger," Yuri said with a grin. "Hey Rog, wake up!"

Nothing happened.

Yuri stood staring at the ancient, desiccated mummy in the box and frowned. 'Why doesn't he wake up?' he thought.

"Well, that was disappointing," Koudelka said and started to sit on the floor next to the stained coffin when there was a sudden gasp from within the box. All three jumped back in alarm.

"My saviour!" the wizened old mummy exclaimed sitting up abruptly and opening incredibly blue eyes to stare at the ceiling. "The secret of the Fomors, on the bottom of the sea… the Émigré …" his voice faded out and he collapsed back into the coffin; he did not speak again, nor did he look like he was breathing.

The three were stunned. Yuri looked disappointed that his old friend had not remembered him, and Koudelka was merely puzzled. James however suddenly lurched to the coffin and grabbed the edge.

"Émigré document? What do you know about the Émigré document? Where is it? Answer me!" James reached in and shook the ancient figure, but there was no further movement or sound from the coffin.

"Now the truth comes out," Yuri said with a smirk.

"Is that what you were looking for James?" Koudelka asked, but James refused to answer, instead pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace.

"Hey you crotchety old fart! The lady asked a question," Yuri growled, but when James did not answer, "Fine! I'll just slit yer holy throat and leave yer body for the rats," and he pulled out the knife, reaching for James' arm.

"Yuri!" Koudelka exclaimed in alarm.

"I had no choice," James said before Yuri could strike. "I'm here on instructions direct from the Vatican. There is a manuscript somewhere in this building –"

"The Émigré document," Yuri said as he placed the knife back in his belt. "So, go on."

"Right, the Émigré document has been kept locked up in the Vatican library for hundreds of years; no one was allowed to read it – in fact not many people knew it existed at all."

"So why is it here?" Koudelka asked.

James sighed. "Somebody stole it."

"From the Vatican?" Koudelka exclaimed then shook her head. "No way."

"Sadly true; not many people can steal something like that from the Vatican. You really have to know the place… or have enough money. According to our secret investigation, the wealthy gentleman who purchased this monastery bribed someone within the Vatican to steal the Émigré document for him."

"Wealthy gentleman?"

"Yes. Patrick Heyward. My friend," James finished.

"Yup," Yuri muttered, "Ol' Albert sure got around."

Koudelka ignored Yuri's comment. "If it's not priceless art or something, why would he be interested in that?" she asked James.

The priest sighed again and leaned against the fireplace mantel, his face suddenly looking quite haggard and weary.

"For years Patrick has dabbled in mysticism and alchemy. He was on the verge of crossing the line; of playing God."

"Playing God?" Koudelka remarked and Yuri nodded sagely.

"Yup – raisin' the dead," he commented.

"What do you know of it?" James suddenly spat, turning on Yuri and scowling, his whole body rigid with tension.

"Creatin' life, right? Like the Druids or something," Yuri said and then suddenly looked embarrassed. "I heard it somewhere, I think."

James leaned back against the mantel and kicked at the bricks with his boot. "Druids," he said. "It's thought that the ancient Druid's forbidden secrets on eternal life and resurrecting the dead are contained in the Émigré document."

"I can't believe that," Koudelka said then caught a glimpse of Yuri nodding his head. "So it's true then? You know this?" she asked the young fighter.

James interrupted whatever Yuri was going to say however. "Of course it's a silly superstition. But that's why I'm here. To try and convince Patrick to drop his dangerous experiments and return the Émigré document to the Vatican."

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," Yuri said and ruffled the papers beneath his boots.

"Well I'd hardly guess a man like that was living here," Koudelka said looking around the room, "based on what this place looks like."

"According to the caretakers, he lives in the building next to the church."

"Oh yeah, here we go," Yuri said suddenly and turned abruptly and left the room.

"What? Yuri!"

But Yuri was gone, his boot heels crunching the broken tiles and masonry as he swept past the broken printing presses and out the door to the vestry. He was moving quickly, heading for the huge wooden doors of the church when James and Koudelka caught up to him. His hand was on the door panel and he was about to push it open when Koudelka called out to him. He turned wearing an excited grin and a look of childish glee.

"Come on, we can get in through here," he said.

Koudelka frowned, wondering what was going through his beleaguered mind. "Yuri, slow down. We don't need any more surprises," she said.

"No surprises, just the Big Guy," he said and emphasized the words with his hands.

"Who is that supposed to be? Are you referring to God?" James asked.

Yuri snorted. "Not hardly. Come on," and he turned to push open the doors.

The large wooden doors, framed in brass and very heavy, slid open on a silent whisper revealing the outer chamber of the church proper. The marble floor was coated with the dust and dirt of years and the side passages were crammed with broken pews, shattered glass, and bent and mangled candelabra. Above them, a scaffold circled half the roof and a faint ray of light came from the area of the sanctuary, issuing through the cracked and blistered glass of the rose window, its once beautiful stained glass now old and dreary to match the cloudy windswept exterior. Yuri, Koudelka and James stood under the portico and scanned the interior for any signs of life. Yuri spotted it first, in the far wall next to the sanctuary where the stone had crumbled; something large moved in the area beyond and there was a sound of grinding stones.

"What's that?" James asked and approached the dais and the shattered wall into the sanctuary.

"A plant?" Koudelka said and looked at Yuri.

Yuri was walking with them toward the dais but he was not looking at the moving object beyond; instead, he was looking up toward the bell tower.

"Yuri?"

"Just about that time," he said and as if to punctuate his odd statement, the bells in the tower began to chime, an eerie and ethereal sound, echoing as it did through the empty church.

"What the-? What's that bell?" Koudelka asked.

James thought for a moment, before offering a brief smile, "Just the passing of another day," he said and then something occurred to him and he turned shocked eyes to Koudelka. "Oh no! Today's All-Saint's Day!"

As if reacting to James' exclamation, the moving thing in the sanctuary beyond them suddenly writhed and hit the wall several times, the entire side of the church shivering with the impact and the scaffolding nearly falling on their heads. Above them, near the apex of the ceiling, a center of darkness began to grow, swirling with dark energy, twisting and warping upon itself, and wind began whipping through the church while a thousand voices screamed in pain. Koudelka winced, moving back from the miasma forming above them.

"The spiritual energy is coming together!" she exclaimed. "Such power - it's like… a monster."

The gyrating ball of dark energy began to coalesce and Koudelka and James began moving away, while from the center of the darkness a grotesque figure began to form, and then suddenly the energy exploded, the wind crashing and smashing into the upper rafters of the church, dragging in stone dust and bits of metal to meld with the figure in the center of the maelstrom and, in another moment, the figure itself exploded out of the miasma, huge grey wings opening as the creature landed with an earth-shattering thud on the church floor. The explosion had knocked everyone off their feet, tumbling Koudelka off to one side and away from James and Yuri who landed close to the vestry doorway, while in the center of the church was now kneeling a huge grey gargoyle, its long muscular tail whipping about behind him, with a nose sharp like a beak, and with claws and talons razor sharp and blood red eyes staring straight at Yuri.

Yuri climbed to his feet, grinning up at the great monster in the church, his own eyes bright.

"Hey there big guy," he said, looking up in near rapture at the towering gargoyle. James, next to him, rose and grabbed Yuri's arm.

"Let's go!" James yelled at him and pulled Yuri away just as the monster moved. The two found themselves fleeing back toward the vestry doors, Yuri's head still turned, straining to look at the gargoyle while James dragged him behind. They reached the doors just in time as the huge monster launched itself after them and struck the wall, crushing the doors and support beams, causing the wall to collapse in on itself, blocking the entrance back into the church.

In the vestry hallway, James fell panting to his knees, finally releasing Yuri's arm, his whole body trembling.

"You mad bastard," he said to Yuri, spittle flecking from his lips, sweat beading up on his tall brow from the effort of escaping.

"Wh-what did you do that for?" Yuri asked, looking at James from his position on the dirty floor.

"That _thing_ would have crushed us," James said.

Yuri snorted and shook his head, looking around. "Where's Koudelka?"

"Inside," James indicated the collapsed doors, "with the monster."

Yuri's eyes grew wide, changing from amber to red in a heartbeat. "NO!" Yuri suddenly leapt up, throwing himself at the wrecked doors, pounding his fists on the metalwork. "Koudelka! Koudelka!"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

A/N: Nope, don't own them. Uncharted territory here as we follow Yuri and James instead of Koudelka! (Those who played Koudelka will remember that the game followed her actions; ever wonder what James and Edward were doing to so distress Roger?) Rated "R" again, and I think you know why. Oh, and AriesCelestial says I should warn you all about the screaming baby thingie... like _that_ would bother any of **_you_**! Heheh!

Yuri pounded on the shattered doors with their piles of stones, brick and mortar until his hands were bleeding, screaming out Koudelka's name and cursing in every language he knew. James had remained behind him, watching as the young man vented his frustration and anger on the hapless door rather than himself. Finally though, his gloves shredded, his hands battered and bleeding, Yuri collapsed onto his knees on the floor, burying his head in his hands. Tears welled up and flowed from his eyes and James, with a shake of his head, offered his kerchief.

"Here, wipe your tears boy; there's no use in crying. She's in the Lord's hands now."

Yuri refused the handkerchief, instead wiping his face with his sleeve. "No," he said, swallowing his tears. "No, she's not dead."

"But that monster," James began.

"No!" Yuri stood up and shook his head, his long bangs falling into and shading his eyes, but even then James could see that the unusual eye color had changed: Yuri's eyes had flamed a brilliant red and, crossing himself, James moved back.

"I intend to find her! I promised to protect her Goddamit!" He shoved James aside and ran back toward the library.

"Oh my good God," James murmured then decided he'd better keep up with the insane Yuri or risk them both being killed in this dangerous monastery.

Yuri ran back to the library, kicking open the door and plunging through into the main room. He was nearly to the top of the stairs before James had even reached the second door; James was calling out to him to slow down, to stop, but he couldn't – he had to find Koudelka. But Koudelka had the map and he wasn't sure he could remember all the markings from his brief glance.

"Yuri if you don't stop, you're going to get us both killed!" James yelled from behind him as he was scurrying to catch up. Yuri had made the balcony and was careening down the stairs to the shattered chandelier.

"I've got to find her, James, I've got to," Yuri called back.

"I understand that; but together! Not you running ahead like this," James called and stopped to catch his breath at the head of the stairs. He looked down and saw Yuri too had stopped, not breathing hard but waiting for James, pacing back and forth in a small area in front of the door to the water font. Grateful for the respite, James took a few more deep breaths before descending the stairs.

"Now where do you think she could go, Yuri? Think!" he said as he approached the pacing fusionist.

"I – I don't know," Yuri said. "Maybe the area near the arbor. That's where I came in –" he paused and looked up at the large bronze door, the one that had caught his attention earlier. "If we can find an exit, or a window on the ground floor…." he said.

"Then let's go," James said and headed for the water font.

"No, not that way; it's all underground," Yuri said and ran back to the pile of boxes beneath the bronze doors. "I think this way is faster – comes out near the caretaker's quarters … I hope."

Climbing up the boxes he pulled himself up to the top landing and faced the bronze doors; they were held shut with a bolt and he slid that back and pulled; the doors swung open with a grating shriek that had James wincing. Yuri stepped through and a moment later returned.

"Yup, comes out on the second floor above the caretaker's room. We can go this way. Come on," he said and disappeared back through the doors. James, with a grunt, climbed up the boxes behind him.

Yuri was waiting in the small corridor, foot tapping impatiently.

"This way," he said and once more they made their way down the dark corridor over the monastery gates. Yuri paused at the window to peer out over the inner grounds but the fog had rolled in and he could barely make out the arbor in the middle of the courtyard. Dark shapes were moving in the fog and Yuri, with a growl, turned and ran through the far door.

Through the dark passage he ran heading for the descent ladder, but at the bend in the corridor he was greeted a pair of wandering suck bugs and their zombie companions. Without hesitation Yuri jumped into the fight, his still injured hands reminding him how much he hurt with each blow he struck. The zombies, a pair of males, were slow and fragile, and he kicked one through the stomach, effectively cutting it in two, before swinging around to slam his fist down onto the head of the first bug. The bug didn't die right away, and in its injury it spewed forth a green fluid that sprayed all over Yuri's legs, eating slowly through the material. A gun report behind him alerted Yuri to James and his pistol and he swung aside, shaking his legs to get the poisonous fluids off and at the same time sending a boot though the nearly dead bug. The suck bug died and the first zombie too faded to mist.

James raised the double action pistol again, aiming at the second suck bug and fired twice, sending it feet first into hell while Yuri pursued the last zombie with boot and fist and before its shattered remains had dissipated into dust, Yuri was running for the ladder. At the bottom though, James insisted they stop at the font in the priest's quarters. Broken as it was from "Amon" striking it, yet its cool and pure waters could help to heal Yuri's injured hands. Yuri nodded, seeing the sense of this and so they stopped for a few minutes.

Peeling off the shredded leather gloves was almost as painful as hitting the brick and mortar of the vestry door; Yuri's blood had soaked into the tattered leather again and again making it stiff and soaking in the font only made them slick. Finally, James took Yuri's dagger and carefully sliced the offending pieces away, revealing hands battered, bruised, and cut - the knuckles swollen and nearly unrecognizable.

"You don't do anything by halves, do you?" James asked and he tapped Yuri's hands to indicate he should put them back into the cold water of the font. Yuri shook his head.

"Nah, not really. I – If I don't do my best, do everything I can, then people around me will die."

"Did you lose someone that way?"

Yuri shrugged. "I think so. I must have – I'm here." Yuri lifted his hands and shook them, letting the last of the blood drip down into the basin. James looked closely at each finger, poking not un-gently at a particularly deep gash, and then turned to pull an ointment from his pack.

"It's not much, but I got it from town before I came here."

Yuri nodded and let James smear the greasy cream onto his hands, making them slick with oil. He looked at them, wiggling his fingers and grinned.

"I'd better stay away from your fire magic, James. You'd flash fry me."

James shook his head, saying nothing.

"Thanks; I mean that."

They left the priest's quarters and, making the jump to the prison cell, ran quickly through to the underground tunnels, the greeny lichen a beacon of disappointment to Yuri. On the way they ran into more roaming creatures, both bugs and zombies and something that had James retching in a corner. A noisome creature that looked like a mutant bull and human hybrid; it had a bull like head rising above broad shoulders, the upper torso being human, but the lower extremities were missing limbs. Powerful forearms, which ended in hooves, pulled the creature along the ground, while its legless body wiggled and writhed like a snake. It made a grunting sound like a bull as it attacked and Yuri, without gloves, was forced to use bare fists and his dagger. James was leaning against a lichen wall, his face ashen in the greeny light and Yuri sighed, knowing he'd also be alone in this fight

Watching the creature shuffle forward, Yuri had an idea the creature was slow, so he hoped his own fast reflexes would carry him through. He leapt forward, making a side kick at the creature's head and hearing a satisfying crunch even as he spun around and did a little hop to change legs, punching the other leg like a piston into the neck. The monster bellowed in pain and Yuri grit his teeth, making a fist of his right hand and punching, sending the balled fist flashing down and into the creature's left eye, splattering the rotten material onto the tunnel floor. But though slow, the monster was powerful and even as it bellowed in pain, it swung its heavily muscled neck up and struck Yuri with its horns, catching him in his arm as he was retracting his fist. Yuri's angry curse was almost as loud as the monster's bellow.

James heard the young fusionist's shouted curse and looked up to see Yuri fending off the beast's horns, a stream of blood coursing down his right arm. His stomach roiling from the mere sight of the horrible creature, James still managed to gather himself enough to put new rounds in the pistol and fire. His aim was off, the first couple of bullets pinging on the ground next to the monster, but it distracted the monster long enough for Yuri to move back. Looking around, he spotted a pile of skeletons on the tunnel floor.

"James, keep firing," he called and scrambled over to the skeletons, rummaging around amidst the bones, and rotting cloth. Finding a leg bone, he yanked it from the skeleton and, brandishing it like a club, returned to the malicious monster.

"This club's for you," Yuri muttered and began beating on the bullish head, using the leg to pound on the monster. James moved away from the fighting to reload his pistol while Yuri moved in for more close combat. Yuri's heavy handed pounding was doing damage that his fist had been unable to, the leg joint pounding dents into the bull-like head, and mashing the neck and shoulders. Finally, the leg bone cracked, the joint shattering and, with a quick toss, Yuri changed the bone from a hammer into a short spear, using the sharp end to deal further damage. By now the creature's head was a mass of bruised and bleeding sores with one eye oozing gore, and it hung low, giving Yuri an unhindered access to the body without meeting resistance from the deadly horns. James, now with reloaded pistol, took careful aim, firing round after round and Yuri used the pointed leg bone, stabbing down and into the neck, severing arteries and, when the make-shift weapon stuck on the neck bones, Yuri used his booted foot to drive the leg bone further in, shattering the creature's neck. With a grunt, the creature sagged to the ground and faded away.

Panting, Yuri looked up at James, who was wiping sweat from his brow.

"Priest, you're a mess," he said with a lopsided grin.

"I'm a mess; speak for yourself!" James exclaimed. "You'll need to wash that wound," and James indicated Yuri's right forearm, the blood now caked on the already filthy and shredded sleeve.

Yuri looked down at himself and sighed breathily. "This place is hard on clothing," he said and then shrugged. "Let's go James."

Not waiting for a reply Yuri ran down the tunnel to the door; beyond was the wide chamber with the septic tank and the underground shrine. Yuri paused at the entrance and shouted, his voice echoing off the beaten stones and catching in the hollow shrine chamber where the water bubbled and danced in the fountain.

"Koudelka!" he shouted and ran past the shrine and opened the door to the next tunnel, running down to the end. James however stayed at the shrine, catching water up to drink and wash himself. After a moment he heard Yuri return as he kicked open the door.

"Where the hell can she be? Koudelka! Koudelka!" Yuri was screaming, his voice, never loud to begin with, was growing hoarse from shouting.

He ran back toward the septic tank and was kicking at it in frustration when he spotted a flickering light beyond the deep chained off chasm. Then he remembered Koudelka checking it out earlier and ran back. The path diverged along the chained abyss, the area they knew going toward the shrine, but another smaller path lead off into the dark and there he spotted a large pair of doors, huge and blue with carbonization, their bronze bosses and metal fixtures old, but the door still holding. There was a huge dent in the door, where the two panels met, and part of each door had been peeled back, but the doors themselves were still strong and unmoving.

Yuri climbed the small set of stairs to the landing and pushed on the door, giving it a good kick when it didn't budge.

"God damn!" he shouted and kicked the door again.

"Yuri?" a voice said through the door and Yuri's heart leapt in his throat.

"Koudelka! Where are you? Koudelka!" he looked around, then spotted her fingers wiggling in the broken door. "Oh thank God!"

He pressed himself close to the door, his own hand pushing through to take Koudelka's hand in his, pressing her fingers hard. She had her head against the door, and he could hear her breathing, his own face now pressing against the metal on his side.

"Koudelka, I thought – I thought I lost you," he said, and he moved his hand up toward her face.

"I'm all right, Yuri. You and James?"

"Ah, fine, fine. I'm harder to kill than a cockroach," Yuri said and his fingers met and caressed Koudelka's cheek.

"How did you know where to look for me?" she asked.

"I guessed. No, it was luck; I was tryin' to get outside," he said with a breathy chuckle. "Didn't get far."

Behind them James climbed up the stairs and offered Yuri a wet handkerchief.

"Here, at least wash yourself, heathen," he said but his voice was less caustic than usual. He could see the emotion on Yuri's face and knew that there was a deep sense of affection for this gypsy woman in his heart, and maybe something more.

Yuri took the cloth and quickly wiped his face before putting it back against the door.

"What can we do? How can I get to you?" he asked. "The door's broken." Koudelka nodded and he could feel her face move beneath his fingers.

"You're under the arbor aren't you?" James asked. "Isn't there another way out?"

"Yes, there's a door behind me; it might lead outside. And I think there's a door across from the church," Koudelka said.

"Yeah, I remember seein' it before," Yuri said. "We can meet you back at the library, yes?"

"Yes, at the library."

"Koudelka," Yuri said softly, reluctant to release her face. "Be careful. I – don't die, please."

Koudelka pulled back from his hand and squeezed his fingers in hers before letting him go.

"I'll be fine," she said and moved away from the door.

Yuri waited until he knew she would have left the room and pushed away from the door.

"I am going to get some water James," he said and walked away.

James waited in silence by the tunnel entrance while Yuri went to the shrine. Yuri was feeling much relieved that they had found Koudelka but he was still worried for her; she was alone in the monastery, facing who knew what kind of dangers. He knelt at the shrine, taking up handfuls of water to splash on his face, washing the grime and gore from his face; he let the water sluice over his hands, wiggling his fingers in the cool water. He then drank some of the pure water and felt its cool freshness working its way through him, lifting the fatigue and soreness he had in mind and body, and working to heal his battered hands as well, though there were still scars on hands and arm, he could feel the healing within as well, his spirit settling for a moment in the peace of the divine waters. He sighed, letting his mind rest for a moment, feeling the confusion still stirring in his brain, but slowing down, offering a moment's respite before he shook himself and rose to join James.

Silently they entered the tunnel, heading to the library. They managed to get through the next tunnel without difficulty, but as they entered the basement room and were climbing the stairs, a pair of monsters, accompanied by flitting bats, accosted them. James took his gun and fired, killing the first bat before Yuri had pulled the dagger from his belt; he would have to figure out how to take on the other two creatures; one a giant eyeball like creature, with stalk-like feelers and the other a headless being, once human, with razors of metal and glass embedded in its shoulders where the head should have been. Although it seemed to stagger under the weight of so much metal and glass, it moved quickly to attack using the razors as it butted with its head.

Yuri found himself on the defensive with only the dagger and wishing he hadn't broken the mace. The razor sharp blades kept hitting his dagger, forcing him back and he was being pushed to the wall while James was busy shooting the bats. He had to do something now or this thing would beat him! Reaching into himself he touched a fusion soul and in a flash they became one, Yuri's body elongating, his arms becoming long and muscular, with sharp claws and his features warping to lupine proportions. A long tail bushed from his backside and his overall appearance was that of a wolf.

Lobo turned sharp red eyes onto the razor sporting headless creature and instantly roared his defiance, his voice calling up an increase in both his and James' defenses. Then he leapt forward, raking his claws along the floor and pulling up stones and wooden floorboards, flinging them up at the headless. It was merely a distraction however, as he next moved back and with a roar, magically summoned a huge boulder, pulling it into his clawed hands and then letting it fly, slamming it into the headless and the bats, flattening their bodies, and shattering their bones. But the eyeball like creature was still alive, its body flattening with the impact of the stone and then coming back with a popping sound.

Lobo roared in frustration, the sound reverberating in the ceiling and sending dust and dirt floating in a grey haze to the floor. The black eyeball was unfazed by the fusion's anger and instead gathered itself for an attack. Behind him, James had begun a summoning, casting his magic at the last minute, and sending an arcing flare over their heads. The spell burst like fireworks in the air above them and melted like magma over the black misshapen creature and with a withering pop, it too vanished. Yuri released his fusion and stared at James for a moment then nodded and ran up the stairs.

They passed quickly through the rooms with the abandoned paintings and assorted treasures, and were climbing the stairs toward the water font when James suddenly lurched forward, thudding onto the stairs with his chin. Yuri turned at the top to remark at James' clumsiness and stopped, open mouthed at the zombie woman holding James' leg. Behind her was the strangest monstrosity he had yet seen at the monastery. It had a nearly human body, human legs and arms with but with pincher claws for hands, yet crawled along the ground on its belly. Its head was bestial, looking like a lizard and it sported a long, muscular tail that bent around over its body, pointing forward with a curved needle on the end, dripping poison.

"Ah shit, not again," Yuri muttered.

The zombie woman was pulling James back down the stairs, his head thumping on each stair and when they reached the bottom the prick-tailed creature climbed up over James' body, its tail raised and quivering. Yuri waited on the landing, his dagger in his hand but the scorpion like monster didn't hesitate in attacking him, stabbing out with its tail and grazing Yuri's hand with its stinger. Yuri pulled back but too late, the poison surged through the puncture wound. With a grimace, he switched hands, using the dagger left handed as the monster joined him on the landing, and while it tried to stab him again, he used his injured right hand to grab at the tail. The beast was fast though and Yuri missed, so he sent his booted foot into its lizard-like face. The monster moved back a step on the small landing and hissed at him before flicking its tail again, the tip bulging with poison.

Yuri grabbed again, managing to grasp the near end below the stinger; he pulled the tail closer, pulling it under his arm and holding it tightly while bending the prick back, and spurting poison out and over his hand and onto the monster's back. The creature struggled, trying to pull free, using its pinchers to snap at Yuri's feet, but Yuri kicked out, using one foot to defend himself while he used the dagger to slice off the part of the tail including the stinger. Now he was armed with two weapons and Yuri concentrated on delivering lethal blows to the injured monster. He drove the dagger into the creature's shoulder, forcing it to turn its head toward the dagger and allowing Yuri to plunge the poisonous needle into the creature's eye. Yellowish ichor oozed from the burst eyeball and the remaining poison bubbled and foamed. He then moved in closer, straddling the monster. The stub of the tail moved up behind him and struck him repeatedly, spattering him with blood, but Yuri ignored it. Instead, he grasped the dagger haft with his injured right hand and pulled it from monster's shoulder; he then grabbed the creature's head with his left hand, thrusting his thumb into the eye socket to hold on and slit the monster's throat. With a violent shudder and hiss, the prick-tailed monstrosity died.

Yuri sank to his knees and rolled off the corpse, looking back down the stairs. The zombie had continued pulling James down the stairs and the priest was kicking at it, trying to knock off her head. In exasperation, he had pulled his pistol and reloaded, firing shots into the zombie's body, but little damage was made to the already dead woman.

"James," Yuri gasped, "use healing magic."

James looked up at the panting fusionist. "Healing? All right." James immediately began to summon the healing spell. This took him longer than the fire spell he had become accustomed to, but when it finally manifested it was like a brilliant green of life and health falling gently over the zombie. In one breath, the zombie screamed and exploded into dust. James shook himself and climbed the stairs to the injured Yuri.

"P-poison," Yuri said through his short breaths; his heart was beating hard and fast and sweat was pouring form him, dripping down onto his already heavily soiled shirt and shredded trench coat. James shook his head and pulled an antidote from his pouch, giving Yuri half the recovery plant and applying the other half to his right hand, letting the leaf soak up the poisons.

"Youngster, you're a mess; can you make it to the font? We're only a room or two away," James said.

Yuri, chewing the meaty leaf, nodded.

"Okay then, let me help you up," James offered his shoulder and pulled Yuri to his feet. The first steps were shaky but the antidote was beginning to work and Yuri held his own weight, but the next two hundred yards were the longest Yuri had faced in a long time. Each step tired him out more than the last with black spots dancing in front of his bleary eyes and, when they finally reached the font, he collapsed out of James' grip and sank onto the fountain's platform. James wet his handkerchief and wiped Yuri's face with it, then soaked it again and wiped the injured hand, removing the spent antidote leaf and the slowly caking blood and ichor.

In his pouch he had a silver flask and this he removed and unscrewed the cap; he placed the flask in the font and filled it with the holy water, then offered the flask to Yuri. The fighter took the flask and drained it, gulping heavily as the cold water splashed from the bottle and dribbled down his neck. James shook his head.

"Pig," he said. "Can you stand up?"

Yuri nodded, wiping his mouth with his soiled sleeve. "Yeah," he answered and climbed to his feet, shaking his head. "Man I hate poisons," he muttered, then plunged his head into the font, swishing it back and forth a few times and then bringing it back up with a shower of pure water over the platform and James. James sighed and waited for the water to clear before refilling the flask.

"You ready?" Yuri asked.

"How did you know about the healing magic?" James asked as he put the stopper back in the bottle and screwed on the lid.

Yuri shrugged. "Someone I knew used to do that; worked really well on dead things."

"You seem to have had a lot of experience with this sort of thing."

Yuri looked at James, a smile playing across his lips, his eyes gently amber. "Yeah, we used to run into all sorts of things; one time at a cannibalistic village we ..." Yuri hesitated, blinking rapidly, a frown forming.

"Yes?"

Yuri thought for a moment, trying to find the memory he just had, the one with – the silver haired – no, no, that had never happened. No, he didn't know that girl, did he? He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to clear his mind.

"I – I – fuck," he muttered and turned to leave the font, his steps a little shaky at first then stronger as he headed for the door to the dinning hall. James watched in trepidation for a moment before following.

The chandelier still lay shattered on the floor and Yuri was skirting is quickly when movement in the shadows of the chandelier caught James' attention.

"Look out!" he yelled just as a pair of black cats emerged from the shadows.

Yuri spun around and smirked. "Oh for Chrissakes," he cursed and kicked one of the cats. It yowled in pain and scratched at Yuri's foot while the other cat slunk between the iron pieces of the chandelier. James had already pulled his pistol and began shooting, bullets pinging off the metal frame when they missed the cat. Yuri ducked as bullets whizzed by him and he ground his teeth. 'This priest is more trouble than he's worth,' he thought and, reaching down, grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck and slammed it into the ground. It didn't move after that and he tossed the carcass into the shadows.

"Come on James, kill the God damned thing and be done with it," he growled. James had to stop and reload his pistol and the cat slunk back into the dark recesses of the chandelier, its tail bushed and its feral eyes glowing. "Ah shit, they do magic." Yuri ran at James and knocked him to the floor just as a ball of ice materialized above them and crashed to the floor.

"Fucking god damned stupid sons of bitches," Yuri cursed vociferously as he scrambled back onto his knees, crawling into the broken chandelier to chase after the cat.

"Oh never mind Yuri, it's gone now," James said, rising and dusting himself off. Looking around the large dinning hall, he grimaced. "We've got other problems," he said.

Yuri, still cursing softly, crawled back out from the huge chandelier and sat on his heels, his jaw open.

"Where the hell did those come from?" he asked, "and who's inside 'em?"

"I doubt anyone's inside them," James responded then turned his concentration to summoning magic. From the back of the hall came a pair of armored knights, cuirassed, helmeted and with shields, each step they took was a hollow clank on the stone floor, their once burnished steel now pitted and dark with age, but the swords they were wielding were just as sharp and James knew that bullets would be worthless. Yuri on the other hand knelt frowning, his eyes flickering from amber to a near orange.

"God damned stupid bastards just won't quit," he was muttering. The two knights were approaching rapidly, their swords raised and one was summoning magic even as it stepped into the center of the dinning hall. James was looking perturbed but had none-the-less begun summoning his own magic. On the other hand, Yuri was feeling pissed. He was trying to get to the library and Koudelka and these damned dead things wouldn't leave him alone! Gnashing his teeth, he jumped to his feet with a roar and flung himself at the steel knights.

Yuri's shout startled James who faltered in his summoning and he watched as an incensed Yuri leapt forward wailing into their armored foes.

"I've let you guys get away with shit so far, but now I'm gonna kick you bastards back to your graves!" he was shouting as kicks followed punches followed dagger thrusts, all to no avail. Then finally Yuri jumped back and bellowed, his normally quiet voice now shredded with his yell and James moved away as a red-skinned giant suddenly appeared and began a four-armed attack on the knights.

Yuri was livid with fury and Inferno answered the call. He grabbed the nearest knight, yanking the shield from its hand and slamming it into the knight's head, severing it from the neck; the helmeted head fell to the stone floor, bouncing away, and Inferno continued using the shield to beat on the knight, denting and tearing the shield with each blow. With one final thrust the shield was torn in half and Inferno threw the pieces down, stomping his feet in frustration. The battered knight tried raising its sword but Inferno grabbed the sword and arm holding it, and twisted. Metal shrieked then popped, the armored arm pulling free of the body; there was no blood – the arm was empty! Denied blood, Inferno used the arm and sword like a hammer, pounding and flailing at both knights. One huge leg came up and smashed into the second knight, knocking it back a few feet and then it was flung across the room when the sword arm and sword hit it across the chest with an explosion of sound.

Turning back to the headless knight, Inferno smashed the sword and arm into it again and again, hacking away at the haunted suit of armor until great gashes marked the chest, and parts of the armor were flung away. Dropping the sword arm, Inferno grabbed the shield arm and, holding on, began pealing away armor piece by piece, long pointed claws gouging and tearing. Bits of armor fell away like orange peels and after a minute, there was nothing left but the shield arm, breastplate and legs - these Inferno kicked into a corner.

By now the second knight was back on its feet and Inferno ran in for the attack, huge fists hammering into the hollow knight, tearing away the shield, back-handing the head off the body, wrenching the sword free and pummeling and punching his way through the armored chest. Then with a roar that shook the rafters, Inferno picked up the remains of the armored knight and, lifting it over his head, flung it against the far wall, shattering it into tiny pieces.

With another roar the fusion was released and Yuri's shout foundered his throat raw. He coughed and looked around for more then shrugged, panting. James put the pistol in his pocket and joined Yuri, who was leaning on his knees.

"Yuri?"

But Yuri shook his head and turned toward the stairs. They made the upper landing and through the puzzle room before having any more trouble. The darkened library held more than books, it now gave them a small monster. A rolling knot of plant fiber and gut with many mangled and protruding arms and, uppermost, was a baby's body, his sweet bald head and face turned toward James and Yuri as they entered.

"Sweet Jesu," James muttered but Yuri grit his teeth, his arms gesticulating in angry frustration. He plunged ahead toward the little creature and kicked it, sending it bouncing down the library landing and over the side to plunge to the first floor. It hit the stone floor with a loud splatt and the baby's wail of fear and pain was brief before it gurgled into silence.

"Yuri! How _could_ you," James exclaimed but then saw the face on the young fighter; florid with anger and his eyes … James saw the red in those eyes and moved back, letting Yuri fling himself ahead recklessly, taking the stairs to the lower level two at a time. "Dear God, he's insane."

Reviewers:

Tiger… Koudelka didn't psyche her story to him; she "told" him after the fact. It's not so much revisionist history as it is filling in blanks on how he would know things he shouldn't: either Halley told him or Koudelka. And since Halley only knows what "mom" told _him_, it would be better if it were Koudy herself. Think of it like sitting about the table having tea and hearing a story told by a friend.

A Lifeless Beauty... Nadie sweetie, when I catch my breath! .;; As you know I'm many chapters ahead of you readers, but I still have 4 to complete at this upload. So please, be patient. I want to read your story too... but I find reading too much interferes with what I'm trying to write, and I don't want to accidentally "borrow"...

Next up: the reunion of our cohorts in crime. And maybe a little lemon crème goodness.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

A/N: I still don't own Koudelka or Shadow Hearts; don't even own the copy of the script: that is courtesy of darkannex – I just borrowed it. This chapter is Rated R for language, violence and SEXUAL situations and if you don't like that kind of thing, please hit the back arrow.

Yuri got to the bottom of the stairs and paused at the bloody pool and mangled creature that he had sent falling to its doom. With one toe of his boot he nudged it, never saying a word, and then went on to the printing press room. James paused to make a sign over the mangled baby body then followed, ready to give Yuri a piece of his mind or an exorcism. Neither was needed.

Yuri had paused when he entered the pressroom, looking around, and then quickly checked the exit to the church; he was returning when James came in and he shrugged with an off-handed gesture.

"She's not here yet. Where can she be?" he asked and paced back and forth in the room.

James moved back, setting his pack on the broken printing press and composing himself.

"Where _is_ she?"

"Koudelka will be here Yuri," James said, his voice soft and careful, as if speaking to a child. "Why don't you sit down … or better yet, go wash up."

"I don't want to," Yuri said with a frown. "I want to wait for Koudelka. I want to know she's all right; she has to be. I promised… I _promised_!"

Yuri's pacing brought him back to the other broken printing press and, in frustration he kicked it, sending broken bits of wood flying. That just made him angrier and he gave it a good roundhouse kick that broke one leg and sent it crashing to the floor.

"Feel better now?" James asked.

Yuri rounded on the priest, his fist raised, then stopped, shaking his head.

"No – no, not really," Yuri said and sheepishly shook his head. "I've been bad, huh?"

James raised and eyebrow and surveyed the damage. "The machine was already broken. But I am worried about you, Yuri. You've been acting …"

"Crazy. Yeah, I get that. It's just I'm concerned. I promised to protect her and here she is away from us, alone – facing who knows what kinda shit. I shouldn'ta let her go. If I'd been there she wouldn'ta died," he finished, chewing his lower lip.

James turning toward the Archives paused. "Who died?" he asked.

"The voice told me to go, to catch the train, only I didn't have any money and I had a headache and I really didn't want to…" he looked up at James. "What?"

"You were telling me about someone you lost on a train?" James prompted.

Yuri thought a minute. A train, he mused. I haven't been on a train in years. What's he on about? "I don't remember anybody on a train. You sure yer not imagining it?"

James sighed. "No. I think I'm going to go pray for a while at the holy font. Rest why don't you?" And he passed through the door to the Archives. Yuri frowned, screwing up his lips and nose into a god-awful mask before huffing a breathy chuckle.

"Look at me," he said to himself, then left the printing room, wandering back up the stairs to the second floor, ignoring the black stain on the carpet. He did not meet any resistance, and made his quiet way back around to the entrance and then left to the small room. He recalled Koudelka finding knickknacks inside and wondered if there would be any more. He'd like to give her something special when she returned.

However, after a thorough search of the room he still came up empty handed. The only thing not opened and searched was the small safe with the Greek letters. Koudelka had said she might figure out the puzzle later, but he wanted to open it now. Eyeing the locking mechanism, he fiddled with several of the Greek letters, shuffling them back and forth but nothing happened. He then pulled his much-used dagger and put the point into the lock, pushing it gently this way and that, feeling the tumblers; but they did not move. Finally, he jammed the knife into the slim space between the safe door and its wall and pushed, moving the blade in to the hilt, and then twisting carefully. The dagger started to bend with the strain and Yuri grit his teeth, trying all the harder not to break the knife while at the same time trying to force the lock. But, with a sudden jerk, the dagger snapped at the hilt, leaving Yuri leaning on the safe.

"God damn it all to hell," he growled and pulling back his fist, let fly with a hard punch that did two things, bent the locking mechanism so he could pry it open, and broke his knuckles and several fingers on his right hand.

"Ah fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered, shaking the injured hand and mentally kicking himself for being stupid. But none-the-less he opened the safe and looked inside.

"Hmph, hardly worth the effort," he said and pulled out an ornate box; inside was a small flower bud that instantly turned to dust and below was a small packet of letters, bundled with a red ribbon, the once crisp white paper faded to cream. Yuri looked at the name on the envelopes but could not make it out, the handwriting was very fancy and he frowned, wishing his ability to read English was better. He stuffed the small packet into his rear pants pocket and slammed shut the safe door. And looking at his damaged hand he sighed. 'Better go see James.'

"How did you do this again?" James asked as he set the bones of Yuri's fingers as best he could. They had placed the injured hand in the font, letting the holy healing waters do as much repair as possible, but the bones and knuckles still needed work and James would have to use a healing spell on them. Queried on how he had done the damage, Yuri had grinned sheepishly and replied with less than the truth. And James had caught him.

"I – well, see, I ran into a monster and well, I managed to avoid a fight but," he was grinning too largely for James to believe him, "the monster had really, really big teeth and it bit me."

James shook his head and refused to heal him.

"But James, I really, really hurt," Yuri said, "an' – an' I can't do magic."

"So tell me the truth."

With a sigh, the fusionist admitted to safe breaking. "I wanted to see if there was anything inside that Koudelka might like; it was a safe after all."

"Not much of a thief, are you?" James' smirk was bright and cheerful and he was enjoying Yuri's pain, for which he promised a Pater Noster afterwards.

"I'm okay stealing, I'm just a lousy safe cracker," Yuri answered.

"All right, all right; here, let me see what I can do for you," James finally agreed to heal him and tsked the entire time about Yuri's recklessness. Finally, he was ready for the healing spell and Yuri waited with bated breath, always nervous when anyone not Light Class did a healing spell: the cure was often as bad as the hurt. But James was sufficient in his healing and Yuri quietly sighed. 'He must be light class. I should ask him,' a thought which promptly slipped from his mind when James put away his healing medicines and knelt at the font in front of the statue of the Madonna and Child.

Yuri moved back, watching the priest as he crossed himself and composed himself for prayer. It was much as he'd seen before both with James and others, and he was about to leave the man to his prayers when James' soft lilting voice caught his attention. The words were strange, almost lilting, and Yuri felt a little peace within him at the words.

"_Pater noster qui es in caelis: sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua_," he was saying quietly, and Yuri could hear the fervent belief and hope behind his words. He returned quietly to the fountain and knelt beside the priest, listening.

"_Sicut in caelo et in terra. __Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie. __Et dimitte nobis debita nostra_."

"James, what are those words yer sayin'?" Yuri asked, interrupting the priest's prayer.

"_Sicut et nos dimittimus_," James paused and sighed. "It's the Pater Noster, Yuri; the Lord's Prayer."

"How does it go?"

James sat on his heels and looked wearily at the young fighter. Why now of all times did the blasted heathen have to interrupt him with questions?

"Like this," he said with a mental sigh, 'Perhaps God is speaking through him,' he thought. "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name," James began and was surprised to see Yuri smile. "Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done –"

"On Earth and Heaven," Yuri said, "or something like that. Yeah, I remember."

"You know it?" James asked, surprised and yet, a little pleased.

"Yeah, my mother used to say it when I was younger; she was always sayin' prayers and such," Yuri paused, looking intently at James for a moment, his thoughts lost on a another person he knew who also prayed every day, her book in her hand and a sense of divinity in her prayers. He shook his head after a moment. "Where was I?"

James was smiling at Yuri, his eyes lighter for the first time that night. "Then you aren't a heathen after all, Yuri; merely a lost lamb."

Yuri snorted and rose from the fountain.

"I ain't no sheep," he said and walked away.

Yuri was kicking around the printing press room when he heard scraping sounds coming from outside; with a scowl and a cocked fist he flung open the door to the triangular court leading to the vestry. Just coming in from the outside door was Koudelka. In an instant, Yuri had pulled her through into the printing room, looked her over quickly, and wrapped his arms tightly around her, burying his face in her hair.

"Koudelka, Koudelka, oh thank god yer all right," he said softly, his voice muffled.

Koudelka was startled by the warm reception and perturbed that Yuri would grab her so suddenly, but really, he wasn't hurting her and in fact, seemed genuinely concerned for her, as he had at their meeting at the underground shrine. And he wasn't that unpleasant to deal with, if a little odd. 'And smelly,' she thought, 'really, really smelly."

"Yuri," she said, "Yuri you're squeezing me." And when Yuri didn't let go, "Yuri do me a favor, take what's left of that trench coat, and throw it away. You stink!"

That brought Yuri's head up and he chuckled. "Okay, I got it. I'll go wash. But what about you? Are you all right? You're not hurt or anything? Should I get James to heal you or something?"

"No," Koudelka said with a shake of her head. "I – I'm all right. A little battered, a little frightened but what I've seen, but otherwise I am well. However, I do have some bad news. I saw the caretakers – they're both dead."

"Oh yeah?"

"Apparently they were the ones responsible for killing all the thieves that were sneaking into the monastery; and with good reason."

"What? They're dead? I can hardly believe it," James said, joining them from the Archives.

"It's true, Bessy told me before..." Koudelka shook her head, trying to sort her thoughts. "Before we met up in the tunnels, Ogden had captured me," she began.

"That bastard," growled Yuri, his fist raised, but Koudelka waved it off.

"He was insane," she continued, raising her hand to indicate the monastery. "He killed the thieves who broke in here in some insane attempt at avenging the death of Elaine."

James looked shocked, his face turning pale and he turned away, facing the wall. "Death – of Elaine? I … I can't believe this," he said softly.

Yuri turned toward the priest, who had paled at Koudelka's words. "You wanna explain this, James?" Yuri asked.

"I don't know what you mean."

Yuri shook his head, gesturing at the priest. "You know damned well who she is, so fess up priest."

James turned startled eyes onto Yuri, confusion warring with disbelief and despair. How dare this uncultured youth... this heathen... judge him!

"Look James, if you know something, please _tell_ me. All I know is that Elaine's spirit called me to this place." Koudelka had approached James, her hand out to touch his sleeve, but James moved back, horrified at her words. "Tell me, _who_ is Elaine? And Patrick? The caretakers told me that robbers broke into their home while Patrick was away, and murdered her. Elaine was a benefactor for the caretakers; they took it upon themselves to murder every single robber that entered their grounds. It … it was a form of revenge for them."

James turned away, putting both Koudelka and the young fighter at his back. He remained silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts, his memories and trying to reconcile what he believed with what he now knew. 'How could this have happened?' he silently cried then shook himself.

"I – I'm originally from Ireland you see," he said, his back still to the room and the waiting listeners. "And though small, my family had a successful business and so was able to send me to school, which I loved from an early age." He paused, a weary yet pleased expression on his face. He turned back to pace the small confines of the pressroom. "I was eventually accepted to a prestigious University in England and that's where I met Patrick Heyworth; we were both studying chemistry and embarking on similar paths." James finally turned to look at Koudelka and Yuri, both waiting patiently, Koudelka standing not too far from him and Yuri leaning against the printing press that he had kicked and broken.

"It was about that same time that we began competing for the love of a beautiful woman, Elaine Spencer," James continued and a small smile creased his lips, his eyes filling with light. "But we had a falling out. I loved Elaine with all my heart," he said and James' tones were fervent. "Amor vincit amnia – but love does _not_ conquer all. I soon discovered that I lacked the social status and inheritance money necessary to care for someone as well-bred and sheltered as Elaine," he sighed.

"I gave up my suit and made way for Patrick. It was then I joined the church, tossing aside the secular world and throwing myself into my faith. You understand - I am a perfectionist," he said and Yuri snorted from his perch by the printing press. James ignored him. "I spent myself on learning all I could in all areas of faith. And because of that, the Vatican raised me to a bishop in charge of some very important matters."

"The émigré thingie," Yuri commented.

James looked at the young fighter and frowned. "Yes, but you see, it's been so hard to... distance oneself from one's emotional attachments. Although I had not seen them for twenty years, still I wished them all the best. And, if it had not been for this, I wouldn't have thought twice about not seeing Patrick again." James suddenly turned toward the library door, his eyes brilliant and with a renewed mask of confusion and sorrow on his face.

"Patrick; how can this be? He _promised_ me he was going to take care of Elaine and make her happy. What could have _happened_?"

"I don't know James," Koudelka said softly, her voice hollow. "But being a witness... to this gory aftermath, I have a hard time believing the caretakers were acting on revenge alone." She shook her head, running fingers through her bangs. Tapping the toe of one boot on the floor, she continued. "Believe me it was an unimaginably heinous sight."

"You said the caretakers were dead – how did they die?" James asked, turning to her once more.

Koudelka sighed. "Ogden – Ogden tried to kill me... in the arbor; there's an operating table and..." she paused, swallowing. "He was insane and rambling on about a ship – the Princess Alice-"

"Alice?" Yuri asked, and his eyes suddenly swirled with color and he blanched dizzily, looking down at his scuffed boots and the dirty floor.

"The ship he captained. But his wife, Bessy, rescued me – and killed her husband and then herself."

"Oh my God," James muttered and crossed himself.

"So you see there's more here than just the mystery of Elaine. And what about the monsters roaming this place? There's more here yet to uncover." She reached into her pouch and pulled a blue-tipped key from it, showing it to Yuri and James. "I got this from Bessy; it's the key to Patrick's mansion."

Yuri looked up dazedly at the key, his vision still swimming with confusion. Koudelka stood in the pressroom with a blue-tipped key, and next to her was James. And then, the blonde woman in the very, very short blue dress, and black net stockings. He thought he should remember her; he could here her sharp laughter as she held out a telegram she was going to send. And the other blonde, the one with silver white hair and the old Chinaman with the staff.

Dizzy, Yuri slid to the floor, putting one hand to his head and moaning.

"Alice...Alice?"

The silver-blonde girl laughing at him as he ate dinner at... a restaurant? He felt such relief that she was well, healthy... why? And that tower in Shanghai – he should remember that – it's where he died, it's where they both died – no, no, it's where SHE died and he... he never got there.

Koudelka looked over at Yuri and saw him slide to the floor, his face pasty white and she knelt at his side.

"Yuri? Are you all right?"

James took a few steps closer. "He's been fighting like a madman, and has been poisoned and then broke his hand. He's probably feeling the aftermath of such stupidity."

Koudelka nodded. "Yuri, I think we can rest for a little bit; you need to wash up and... and I've got weapons and things I found along the way," she offered and placed one hand on his shoulder.

Yuri nodded dumbly. "Wash, yeah wash," he muttered and then rose shakily to his feet and shuffled to the fountain in the archives.

"How did he—" Koudelka began, but James shook his head.

"He's quite mad, Koudelka. He seems obsessed with you."

Koudelka shook her head. "He's obsessed truly, but with amending some mistake he's made. I don't know what to think." She went back to the doorway and dragged in a sack she had been carrying when she arrived. From inside she pulled out a rifle and several boxes of ammunition.

"I got this from the caretaker. It's more powerful than the pistol, but I wouldn't get rid of that just yet; not while we still have rounds for it," she said and handed the weapon to James. He took it and investigated it carefully, checking the trigger and the safety.

"It seems all right. What else did you find in your journey here?" he asked.

Koudelka chuckled. "I think Yuri will like these," and she pulled out a pair of very sharp and very nasty looking claws and laid them on the printing press. "They're knuckles really, he can use them to punch, but these spikes they put on are still very sharp." Each claw had two rows of spikes, not much more than an inch or two in size, but still sharp. "I also found this combat knife left behind by some hapless would-be thief," and this she set on the broken printing press with the claws. The knife had a ten-inch blade, sharp on one edge, with jagged teeth on the other. Its grip was wrapped around with leather and it looked quite strong.

"What about yourself?" James asked, eyeing the weapons with disgust.

"Well, I can use the pistol of course, but I got one of these in a fight in the courtyard," and she pulled a round object from her pouch; it was a cat's eye – large and mutated, the membrane rigid in death.

"Oh my God, Koudelka!"

Koudelka smiled. "I know; but it has its uses. Although it's useless as a conventional weapon, it magnifies my magic."

"Ah, well, good," James said and shook his head. "Why don't you give that stuff to Yuri then? I'm going to step out the door and get some air."

"Don't go far James," Koudelka said and watched him leave before placing the weapons back in the sack and entering the archives.

She rapped softly at the door before entering and setting the sack on the floor. When she looked up Yuri was bent over the fountain, his head in the cold water and she chucked softly at the sight. It struck her funny bone, she thought, to see a grown man bathing in a fountain. But then he raised his head, shaking water over himself and the floor and Koudelka saw he was shirtless, the rags of his trench coat were piled on the floor and his red shirt, more black now than red, was draped on a crate, dripping. He'd rinsed it out and now was splashing water from the font onto himself, rubbing it over muscular arms, down a well-cut chest to partially unbuttoned leather trousers.

'He's very well put together,' Koudelka thought with a sigh. 'Very well defined; it's a pity…' Shaking herself, she cleared her throat.

"I brought you some armor – if it fits, and weapons," she said, and Yuri turned around quickly, fists raised. Koudelka grinned. "You're fast with those things; too bad I've been standing here for a minute already."

Yuri relaxed and laughed softly. "Yeah, well…" He gestured toward the sack she carried. "You brought that for me?"

Nodding Koudelka brought the sack over to the fountain and, setting it down, brought out the weapons once more and then a slinky looking vest that, once Yuri picked it up and investigated, was shown to be chain mail.

"Heavy stuff," he said and held it up to his shoulders. "Might fit at that."

"Good, you need the protection. James was telling me…"

"Ah he worries too much," Yuri said, letting the mail fall at his feet and instead, grabbing Koudelka around the waist, and pulling her close. "Me, I like to take things one day at a time."

Koudelka's lips curled up into an amused smile that lit her dark eyes.

"You're playing with fire, Yuri," she said.

"I'm standing next to water," he replied, pulling her into an embrace and bent down to kiss her, his lips pressing urgently on her own partially open mouth and enticing a long exploration. His arms held her close, one hand caressing her back while the other moved down to pull up her short skirt, running his fingers over the exposed flesh of her legs above her stockings, and pulling gently at her under clothes. His lips were mashed against her mouth, and he felt fiery warmth spreading over him. He pulled her closer, their bodies rubbing together, his hips moving to stroke her with the need he was feeling within his leather trousers.

Yuri's hands moved over Koudelka's body with warmth and intensity and she encircled his waist, her hands roving up his well-formed back and kneading the muscles. He felt good in her arms, strong, protective, and one other thing she had not felt in a long time: trust. She had not trusted anyone in more years than she cared to count, and she trusted Yuri. She trusted him and she wanted him and she knew he felt the same, knew it in his kisses, his touches and in his almost desperate thrusts of hip and tongue.

Yuri's hands were roving over Koudelka, caressing her derriere, and fondling her breasts through the lacy bustier. He took one of her hands and guided it to his unbuttoned trousers, sliding the long fingered hand inside and letting her stroke his needy shaft. He wanted her so much, he wanted to love her right then and there, to hold her, protect her, and cherish her forever and, with her hands on him he felt alive again with a sense of purpose and a driving need that wanted slaking in the fiery furnace that was Koudelka.

But a moment more and her hand was withdrawing, her lips moving away from his, her body pushing away and Yuri felt bereft, cold, alone again and as he released Koudelka from his near death grip, he frowned.

"Why?"

"Because it's not the right time for this," she said huskily. "Later, but not now."

"I want you Koudelka; I want to hold you, make love to you. How can you say, 'not now'?"

Koudelka moved away from Yuri, stepping around him to take a handful of the cold water from the font and sluice her face with it.

"Because as much as I want it, as much as you want it, there is more here than just what we want. Later Yuri; I promise."

Yuri, his breath becoming calm, buttoned up his trousers and, reaching down, took up the chain mail vest, pulling it on.

"I know you think I just want this for now," he said as he tied the laces on the vest, "but that couldn't be further from true. I – I don't just want to have sex with you, although," and he looked up with a crooked smile playing across his face, "that's not a bad idea. I think I love you, Koudelka."

"Even with what you need to do, Yuri? This thing you have to fix?"

"Especially with that."

"Are you remembering anything?" she asked, stepping down from the font and crossing the room to take up his damp shirt and help him on with it.

"A little maybe," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Flashes of things and people and I – I don't know what it means. Or who they are."

Koudelka nodded as she helped him pull the shirt on over the chain mail vest and then handed him the belts.

"Want these?" And when he nodded, she handed them to him. "Yuri, who is Alice?"

Yuri, pulling the buckles tight on the twin belts he had slung around his hips, suddenly stopped, blanching, his face drawing close and his eyes growing haunted.

"I … I don't know. The name," he paused to swallow, "the name sounds familiar."

"Is she the one who accidentally died?" Koudelka asked and her eyes had grown sharp like a raven's beak. He had remembered something; she knew it, for his reaction earlier only confirmed it.

"She … she …" Yuri tried pulling the memory of Alice from his jumbled thoughts, the image of the silver blonde woman and what she meant to him. 'Is she the one I killed?' he wondered. 'No, no she died in Shanghai. So it couldn't have been her.' He looked up at Koudelka and shrugged. "I don't know."

Koudelka sighed and indicated the weapons lying on the floor.

"For you, Yuri. To use to protect us, if you wish," she said.

Yuri took up the combat knife and slid it into his belt and the claw-like knuckles. He looked at them carefully, trying them on, and then grinned up at Koudelka.

"Yeah, these are nice. And I will protect you Koudelka; I promised. I won't let anything happen to you, ever."

"All right, I can accept that. Are you ready?"

Yuri nodded and offered his arm. "Whenever you are."

James was waiting for them at the gate to the graveyard. Koudelka told them where Patrick's mansion was located. "It's on the other side of the courtyard, next to the church. But after I escaped that gargoyle, I checked and the door on the outside was bolted. We'll have to another way."

"But what other way could there be?" James asked. He was standing at the head of the small stairs leading down to the graveyard.

"Back through those damned tunnels probably," Yuri answered.

James frowned and sighed. "I'm going down here for a moment," and he descended the stone stairs to the graveyard, pausing at the foot to look around. The graveyard was desolate, located at the outer wall of the monastery and facing the sea. A handful of ancient gravestones were gathered beyond a broken chained fence while one marker stood alone at the cliff's edge. Curious, James crossed the broken stone paved yard to the grave and knelt to read the inscription.

"Saint Daniel Scotius, Eriugenia," James read and one hand moved to tap his pouch that contained the mummified hand of the saint. "I thought you died in France. Or do your bones rest elsewhere?"

"James," called Koudelka from the top of the stairs, "we're leaving. Come on."

James did not reply, but rose and returned to the library. Koudelka and Yuri were returning through the library and retracing their steps to the water fountain and James hurried to catch up.

"Why back this way?" he asked. "We have the key don't we?"

"Yes, but the door into the mansion wasn't only locked, for when I looked in a nearby window, I could see that it was bolted from the inside. There must be another way in; probably through a side passage."

"But we could look forever," James protested. "Why not simply let Yuri … _kick_ in the door or window like he usually does."

"Oh thanks James, break my foot this time instead of my hand?" Yuri said suppressing a grin.

"Well then…" James thought quickly, "use one of those demons of yours."

Yuri gestured toward the stairs and let Koudelka descend first; they had climbed without incident to the second floor library and passed through the puzzle room; the thief's body was still lying slumped against the wall near the door and, except for Yuri giving it a nudge with his boot, did not move. Yuri watched Koudelka descend the stairs, his eyes unwavering on her swaying backside and James had to clear his throat to get his attention.

"Well?"

"Oh, well, it's simple James. We don't have a lot of that listel stuff; and we'll need it later. Trust me on that."

James hesitated, letting Yuri move ahead as he thought over what Yuri had just said. 'Need the listel for recovery? That means more heavy magical battles… And how does he know that?' Yuri continued ahead, his stride confident, the claws set comfortably on his hands, and James wondered what craziness spun in his addled brain. Yuri stopped at the door to the water font and looked back.

"Hey priest, get yer ass in gear!"

A/N: Not too much action in this last chapter but the next one we are back into the fray with battles, monsters and Yuri/James repartee. And these two can be really funny when they're not trying to kill each other.

A Lifeless Beauty: Nadie, glad you like gore. There's going to be lots and lots of gore in the upcoming chapters as well as Yuri/Koudy. Man if those two ever get it on, they'll have to call the fire brigade!

Tiger, I'm so happy I could entice you away from your nice little ficcies to come visit me in my demented world. Hehe. Stick around. You might like the outcome.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

A/N I don't own them so don't sue, all right? For those who have played Koudelka, this contains a scene you only see if you DON'T do everything right – with Charlotte. Thanks again to darkannex for the hard work on getting the Koudelka script. Any errors are purely my own. Rated R for language and violence – just so you know. Please enjoy; and review if you have time.

They took the return path toward the underground shrine, and along the way met an ever-increasing array of monsters and walking dead. They had no sooner left the treasure room and returned to the lower levels, when a pair of headless female corpses accosted them. Yuri instantly recognized them as similar to the one he'd met in the courtyard before, and warned the others.

"These things may be headless, but they shoot out their guts, so watch yerselves," he said and pounced to the attack. With claws raised he slashed at the nearest headless body, razing down her right side. The creature fell backwards and Yuri pursued, jumping onto her torso, knees to either side of her, and his claws punching down repeatedly onto her bosom, tearing putrid flesh from rotting bones.

Meanwhile James had raised his rifle, firing point blank into the other female while Koudelka summoned. After a minute, she called out and James moved back as the fire exploded out and over, not only her chosen target, but the one Yuri was dismembering as well. With a shout of surprise, Yuri rolled away as the wall of flames descended and incinerated the two walking corpses.

"Jesus fucking Christ, warn a guy will ya?" Yuri yelled, still rolling on the floor, trying to douse the flames that threatened to engulf him.

Koudelka looked startled, her magic was stronger than she had anticipated and she was grateful she hadn't killed Yuri. As for the two walking dead, they were char on the floor. Koudelka went to the young fighter, patting him down and smiled wanly.

"I am so sorry, Yuri. Do you need healing?" she asked.

Yuri looked up at her from his back on the floor and smiled. "No, but you can sit on me if you want."

That earned him a boot to the ribs but he chuckled since the chain mail vest prevented any harm. Still grinning he climbed to his feet, crossed the room, and kicked open the door to the treasure room.

"No stopping to shop, James," he said with a chuckle.

James, swallowing his frown, followed silently behind Koudelka. At the door to the tunnel, they met more trouble. Yuri was not expecting anything to be there and flung open the door, coming face to face with a man standing on the ceiling and pointing a gun right into his face. With a curse, Yuri jumped back and slammed the door shut, letting the bullets thunk into the thick wood while an insane cackle echoed down the passage behind it.

"What was that?" James asked, coming up beside him.

"A – a man," Yuri stammered, "standing on the ceiling shooting at me?" Yuri looked at the priest, his own features blanched. "Damned thing startled me," he said.

James nodded once and raised the rifle, aiming it at the door.

"All right; open it," he said. Yuri pulled open the door and at the same time, James fired the rifle, sending several rounds thudding into the upside-down man, forcing him to step back. James could see him then, a tall, thin man with a crazed expression on his face; two other heads seemed to be merged with his own, as if they had been forced through and into his skull while another arm, its elbow bone exposed to the air, was grafted to his right arm, both hands grasping and moving as the inverted man regained his composure and raised his gun to fire again.

"Step back," Koudelka called and Yuri jumped behind the door as a fierce rush of magic swept past, tornado force winds thrusting though the narrow doorway and sweeping up to the man, twisting him around, snapping his legs and forcing him to the ground head first, his spine snapped, his legs broken and bending backward over his body. James raised the rifle again and put a bullet through the creature's head, ending the threat.

Yuri looked around the door at the crumpled corpse.

"Is it dead James?" he asked with a grin, and Koudelka pinched his arm in passing. "Okay, but you take the lead this time priest."

"I would be content if there were no more of your relatives lying in wait," James said and chuckled as he proceeded down the tunnel.

Yuri, slamming shut the door behind him, laughed. "James," he called, "you made a funny."

James led the way toward the underground shrine, hoping that no more monsters would jump out at them. He wondered why so many were beginning to appear, and why now. 'What has changed that wasn't here before? Is it Yuri? Or something else,' he pondered as he opened the last door to the shrine. Ahead, on his left, were the open chasm and the shattered door beneath the arbor, while on his right the path diverted to the shrine and he could hear the splashing water of the fountain. With a sigh, James headed for the shrine.

Yuri caught up with Koudelka and the two walked companionably through the narrow tunnel. Yuri, not expecting another attack in the narrow confines and with James just ahead, was not paying especial attention. They were walking shoulder to shoulder and approaching the open door when a shadow rolled into the tunnel from beyond the exit, blocking them. Yuri scowled at the shadow, and pushed Koudelka behind him.

"Ah why now, just when I was gonna…" he muttered and then realized what was waiting ahead.

The monster was one he'd seen earlier in the library; a rolling plant-like thing with the body of a human baby on top. He hesitated for only a moment and that was nearly his undoing. The baby raised his sweet little head, his eyes dead and glassy and opened his toothless mouth to scream. A heart-wrenching wail issued from his delicate mouth and the force of the magic behind it threw both Yuri and Koudelka to the floor. Yuri shook his head, trying to clear his spotted vision and turned to check on Koudelka. The force of the magic had pushed them back and Koudelka had landed against the tunnel wall, face down in the dirt, and Yuri found she could not move - her muscles had been paralyzed by the wailing cry; worse, she could not breathe.

"Oh shit," Yuri growled, "hang on Koudelka." He climbed to his feet and adjusted his claws, ready to take on the whining infant and break the spell when James returned. He had heard the baby's cry of despair and returned to help, but realized at the last minute that the baby was a monster; standing in the doorway to the tunnel, he raised his rifle to fire. That forced Yuri to hesitate, and the baby-headed monstrosity rolled a few feet closer, arms waiving, distorted limbs flailing and grasping as it wobbled about, and James missed the shot, sending a bullet pinging into the back of the tunnel.

"God damn it James," Yuri cursed and jumped for the little monster, grabbing its nearest limbs and pulling it close even as it opened its mouth once more.

"Oh shit! Not again –" and the wailing cry broke over Yuri, flinging him back to land next to Koudelka while James suddenly collapsed in the doorway. With a groan, Yuri once more climbed to his feet.

"All right you, enough with me bein' nice about this," he said and leapt, landing next to the rolling menace. Once more he grabbed a handful of waving appendages, and brought one clawed fist down onto its soft plant-like body, the fist plunging through and then pulling out with a sucking sound and trailing entrails. The baby face turned in glassy eyed horror at Yuri and opened his mouth to scream again but Yuri punched downward again, claws slicing into the belly, taking out the lungs and stomach before descending a third time into the head, severing it from the neck. With a snort of disgust Yuri spun around to check on Koudelka, the body of the monster rolling at his feet and the head impaled on his claws, but Koudelka was moving already, sitting on her knees, and shaking her head.

"Yer all right," Yuri breathed a sigh of relief, until she looked up at him.

"Oh blessed Lord Jesus," James said from behind him and he looked to see the priest climbing to his feet, crossing himself as he did so, a look of horror and disgust on his face. Yuri looked down at the baby's head impaled on his claws and then back up at James and knew Koudelka would echo his look of shock and revulsion. 'Ah man, an' now I'm a baby killer,' he thought and shook off the baby's head onto the tunnel ground and watched it roll into the dirt at his feet.

Koudelka didn't say anything, merely crossing behind Yuri and James to exit the tunnel, her head down and shoulders slumped. Fatigue was in every step and Yuri knew she had to be as tired are the rest of them. Maybe she was just too tired to say anything. Kicking the corpse out of the way Yuri followed, sparing a hard stare at James as he pushed his way past and out of the tunnel. James did not respond either, following the young fighter to the underground shrine and watching as he knelt by the fountain and splashed water over himself.

'As if water could wash away the sins of infanticide, of murder, or theft,' James thought and stepped up onto the platform as well. Koudelka was leaning against the near wall, her face wet, and water dribbling down onto her lacy front from having washed.

"Koudelka, are you all right?" James asked and silently Koudelka nodded, her head resting against the stone wall.

"No thanks to you, James," Yuri said from the font. His hands were cupped in front of him and water ran down his face in rivulets, his hair too was wet and droplets glinted on the corner of exposed mail beneath his shirt.

James frowned. "You were doing just fine killing a baby without me," he grumbled.

Yuri threw down the water and rose to his feet.

"What?"

James moved past him to the main pool of the font and knelt, taking a handful of water and washing his face with it.

"You heard me. It was only a baby," James said calmly.

"No it wasn't – you saw that thing before. It's a fucking monster. An' you were shooting at it so don't give me that crap!"

James frowned, his veneer of calm cracking.

"I don't know why I bother with you. Once again, you have proven yourself a ruffian and a cad. It was a _baby_."

Yuri stood, fists clenched at his sides, razor claws gripped tightly, a low growl issuing from his clenched teeth.

"In the library," James said slowly, enunciating each word carefully, "you kicked it down the stairs and splattered it over the library floor; how do I know what it was before you destroyed it? You are a **_maniac_**!" James' calm splintered and he rose from the font, his frown turning to a scowl that threatened to have his brows and chin meeting.

"You lying sack of sanctimonious shit!"

Koudelka, from her position against the wall, raised her hand to get their attention.

"James, Yuri. It was a monster; just let it go at that. We need to move on."

"I was trying to shoot you and missed," James said darkly.

Yuri turned away and finished washing his face and hands, running wet fingers through his hair and his bangs standing up on end. "I am willing to let it go, but Mister 'I am on a mission from god' isn't! Stupid fucking shit!" he growled.

"Yuri, enough!" Koudelka shouted.

"Well I don't do magic for chrisakes!" he said to James and then turned toward Koudelka. "If I had it would have been faster; cleaner. So teach me some willya? I dare ya! Teach me some of yer god damned magic and see what good it will do!" he was shouting now, turned toward James again, his eyes changing from amber to orange. "You were lying on yer god damned sanctimonious ass; Koudelka couldn't breath. Tell me how I'm gonna kill that thing and not make a mess! It wasn't a baby it was a monster and fuck you priest! _Fuck you_!"

Before anyone could respond, Yuri turned and fled from the shrine, his angry footsteps echoing as he thudded his way around the chamber to the dark stairway beyond. He kicked open the metal doors and stood in the dark chamber, his fists clenched at his side, panting with anger and exertion. He looked around the chamber, once more spotting the locked door and the two mummies still lying side by side against the wall with a glint of metal lying between them.

"God damn stupid priest, he just won't let it rest," he grumbled and crossed the intervening space to bend down and take a closer at the two mummies. They were children, maybe five years of age, their ancient dresses protected by simple smocks and aprons; and between them, held in their mummified hands, was a key. Yuri reached down to snatch it up.

His fingers on the key, Yuri heard a soft voice whispering in his ears.

"_Give me my doll_," it said and Yuri looked first over his left shoulder then his right. With a shrug, he pulled on the key again.

"_Give me my doll_," the soft, childlike voice said again and Yuri blinked, suddenly aware that the two mummies were looking at him, their eyes open. "_I want my doll_."

Yuri stood up and smirked. "I ain't got yer stinkin' doll, so shut up," he snarled at the two mummies and kicked them, turning their legs into dust. The two bodies slid to the floor, the key still in their bony hands and Yuri bent down to retrieve it.

"That's right, just hand it over," he said, but when his fingers once more touched the key he felt a surge of power that arced from the key to his hand and threw him across the room, his back slamming into the stone wall. When he stood up, shaking himself, he was looking at two apparitions floating in the air above him, the lower half of their bodies missing. The two children still looked like desiccated mummies, but their eyes were alive and glowing with green and white energy and Yuri felt a tightening in his chest and stomach.

"Why me?"

"Because you're stupid and do stupid things," James said from the doorway and moved in to stand at the foot of the small stairway. "What did you do? Steal from them?" he asked, not bothering to look at Yuri.

"Steal? What you mean steal? They're dead; what do they need with a fucking key!"

"_Give us our dolls_," the apparitions stated, their eyes now sparking and sending out tendrils of energy that had Yuri's hair standing on end.

"Here," Koudelka said, and Yuri jumped away from the door when she came in.

"Why is everyone sneaking in like that?" Yuri growled.

Koudelka paused at the foot of the stairs and pulled two cloth-wrapped bundles from her pouch. She unwrapped two small porcelain dolls each one dressed in finery with signs of love and care showing on their clean, clear faces. She laid them on the ground and the two children floated slowly forward, pausing over the porcelain dolls.

"_Valna__ ... Vigna... Our dolls... ourselves... thank you_." Instantly the apparitions vanished and the mummies lay once more on the floor, dormant, the key left abandoned on the floor.

Yuri looked from the mummies to Koudelka and back. "Well, that was interesting. Why'd you do that?"

Koudelka bent and picked up the key. "Because sometimes you don't need to fight, Yuri," she said. "Here," she handed the key to him. "Use it."

Yuri took the key and looked at it, then glanced at the two mummies before looking up at Koudelka.

"All right, I will."

The key opened the locked door beside the recumbent mummies and led to another prison cell, this one with stairs climbing up to the first floor. It was dark up those stairs and Yuri led the way, his own eyesight pretty fair in the dark and even better when enhanced by his fusions. Up the stairs and through a hatchway to the first level, brought them to a dead end; there was a wall with bars at their feet and looking down and through, Yuri could see a hallway, but no way to get to it. Koudelka was feeling her way around the small landing and found an opening into a small, narrow access way.

"Come on, this way," she said and crawled on hands and knees down the narrow tunnel. At the end, she met a wooden door with a latch and she pushed this open and climbed down into a cell. Lit with warm yellow candles, the room was surprisingly homey; a table was laden with fine china and food still warm from the oven. The walls were lined with tall bookshelves and hundreds of books filled them. Koudelka walked around the table and looked at the first row of books.

"Children's books, adventure tales, dating back quiet a way," she said. James, who climbed out last shook himself and marveled at the room.

"A child's room – in this place," he said and then looked at the center of the carpeted floor. A shadow was growing there and he pointed just as Koudelka suddenly spun around and stared.

The shadow grew and a little girl's soft laugh bubbled from the shadow. Suddenly furniture from around the room began to vibrate and jumped into the air, flinging themselves at Koudelka and the others. Yuri, who had followed behind Koudelka, was standing at the table and poking at the morsels of food; he looked up at the laughter and with a sweep of his arm, knocked the food and place settings to the floor, vaulting over the table.

Koudelka moved into the center of the room, fending off flying chairs and candlesticks; books exploded from the nearby shelves and pelted her from all sides. Meanwhile James was hunched down next to the dinning table loading his rifle. Yuri leapt forward, covering Koudelka and taking a heavy hit from a small nightstand. He looked out at the rest of the room's furnishings and noticed the canopy bed too was beginning to shift and twist.

"Koudelka, if yer gonna do somethin', I suggest it be fast. I don't wanna be wearing bedding," Yuri said, looking back at the young gypsy. She was on one knee, concentrating on her magic, pulling magical energies around her like a vacuum before standing and letting the magic fly. Suddenly, the airborne furnishings were being caught up in another wind, a counter force that spun them gyrating around the outer edges of the room; the bed too flew into the air, the canopy of pink and white lace floating up like a parachute and then twisting like a rope, the bedstead and footboards cracking and collapsing inward, pinning down the goose down comforter and other bedding. Spinning like a top, the bed suddenly collapsed in the center of the room, piles of broken furnishings landing with a wood-splintering crash on top as Koudelka's tornado winds finished whipping around the room, and subsided with a whoosh of spent energy.

The force of her magic spent, Koudelka sunk to one knee again, her breath short. Yuri had squatted down when Koudelka's tornado-force winds began and he could see the strain on her face. He reached into his pouch and offered her a piece of dried fish.

"Yer usin' more advanced magic, huh? It's harder," he said. "Eat that, now," and he rose to face the room's center. "Come on girlie," he called out to the now demolished room. "Time to stop playin' games. The only one getting hurt here is you," he said and rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles preparatory to a fight.

In front of him, a pale shimmer of light began to appear and Yuri jumped back, keeping Koudelka to his rear, with his fists raised. The shimmer spread like a blossoming flower, forming the transparent body of the young girl, Charlotte. She did not manifest as she had before, instead remaining as a ghostly presence dressed in a faded pink gown. Gone was her doll, her hands were empty at her side, her face a blur.

"I'm not fooling around," the ghostly girl said and her voice sounded as if she spoke from very far away. "I don't want your pity. I've had enough!" This last said looking at James, who had risen and joined Koudelka.

"Charlotte," Koudelka began, "listen to me please. I understand you; I know what you've gone through. We're very similar, you and I," Koudelka said from her knees.

Charlotte's shimmering form gestured angrily. "You could _never_ understand me! How could you? I've never been out of this place," and her ghostly arms rose taking in the whole of Nemeton and the room especially. "I was born and I was executed; and on the _day_ I was killed, a priest came to me and said 'dear lord, please accept into your kingdom this poor sinful lamb'." Charlotte's blurry visage stared at James and James had a sense of foreboding at the look of hate that seemed to grow in her undefined face.

"Tell me," Charlotte continued, turning back to Koudelka, "what did I do that was so _bad_? Is it my fault I was born? If I was born just to be killed, why did she _have_ me?"

"My mother abandoned me too, Charlotte," Koudelka said. "I've been alone since I was a child..."

"Yeah, me too," chimed in Yuri. "But that's no excuse for bein' a bad ghost."

The flickering image of Charlotte raised a semi-transparent hand and pointed at them. "And _this_ is how you understand me?" her voice, still echoing in the distance, grew angry. "This is how you are _like_ me?" Charlotte shook her head, her long silver hair flowing freely around her like a cloak while her dress flared out beneath her bell-like, energy beginning to grow around her. "You're _not_ like me – you're _alive_! What do you mean you're _alone_? What do you mean you _understand_?"

Koudelka rose to her feet and stood next to Yuri, her hand outstretched toward the ghostly figure.

"Oh, Charlotte, please listen. I want you to understand; I really _do_ understand, it's not that hard," Koudelka had tears in her eyes and her voice wore the emotions she was feeling, trying to reach out to Charlotte.

Charlotte moved closer, approaching Koudelka and Yuri. "A _curse_ upon you," she said abruptly.

Startled, Koudelka moved back a step. "What?"

Energy was forming around Charlotte, beginning to spin and twist like before and Yuri reset himself, fists firmly in defensive stance but ready to attack.

"A _curse_ upon you," Charlotte said again. "On _you_, on your _friends_ - a curse upon _all_ of you. I will kill _everything_!" Charlotte was now the focus of spinning energies, her eyes the only sharp image on her face and they were glowing a feral red.

"Why don't you just die! _Die_! When everything is dead and gone, then, _then_ we'll be the same. _Then_ will you understand my pain, and my regret. I will kill you, _kill you_!"

"Here she comes," Yuri warned and there was an explosion of energy from the ghostly Charlotte as she manifested in the room. Large, sanguineous, with yet a baby-like face, she was part slug, part human and all malice. Her first act was a scream of defiance, a sound so piercing that it deafened her opponents. She followed that with a wave of magical ire that hit first Yuri, then Koudelka and James, sending them to their knees, gasping for breath. Yuri shook his head and leapt forward, ignoring the pain he was feeling in his guts, and gave the monstrous Charlotte a right arm punch that sank deep into her chest. It proved a bad move, as it did little to harm the transformed girl and added greatly to Yuri's distress. He pulled back his arm, blackened with some kind of poisonous fluid and he gritted his teeth, falling back to Koudelka.

"She's p-poisoned us," James gasped and reached for a panacea in his pouch.

"Yuri, can you hold on?" Koudelka asked and Yuri nodded, keeping one wary eye on Charlotte.

"She's determined to nail us good," Yuri said and grimaced as the effort caused him greater pain. "God damn that hurts," he cursed looking down at his maimed arm.

Koudelka had also reached into her pouch, extracting a couple of antidotes, giving one to Yuri to chew on as she took the other. She then began concentrating her magic, summoning vital health for Yuri to help stem the tide of the poisons coursing through his veins. After half a minute, healing energy cascaded down onto his arm, adding to the healing already begun with the antidote and with a grunt, Yuri rose to his feet and stared hard at the slug-shaped Charlotte.

Meanwhile James' antidote had taken affect and he was summoning magic, a gusher of fire that sprang up beneath Charlotte's bloated scarlet belly. She wailed, more in anger than pain, and let fly with another wave of magic. Yuri blocked the onslaught that would have flattened Koudelka, letting her summon her flare magic, and he spared a glance at James; the priest had knelt after using his magic and the poisonous assault had only grazed him. He looked up at Yuri, nodded his good condition, and began another summons.

'I'm gonna hate myself for this,' he thought, feeling the beginning tendrils of poison working their way through his body. 'But I gotta keep this thing busy.' With a growl, he launched himself at Charlotte, knowing he would be severely poisoned, but he had to keep the bloated bitch from attacking Koudelka and James. He used his claws to graze a line of pain along Charlotte's face, scoring her deeply before following up with a leg kick to the neck. His leather trouser leg burned and smoldered from contact with her venomous skin but held, and Yuri was thankful, but did not hesitate to spin around and put his boot to her face as well. A second later Koudelka's called warning had him rolling to the side and safety, as her flare magic exploded like a bomb over Charlotte.

"Damn, she's getting' good," Yuri muttered to himself as he waited for the magma wave to recede. Charlotte screamed in pain and Yuri grinned, watching as her skin flamed red and peeled back to reveal pulsing veins. "Oh yeah, she's good." Standing he reached in for a fusion soul. "If she doesn't like fire," he called to Koudelka, "let's give her lots of it!"

With a shout he merged his soul with that of Forron, transforming to the seven foot Lord of the Gates of Hell and, not waiting for a response from the others, he slammed his fist down into the floor, rapidly summoning those fiery gates, pulling them up from the bowels of Hell and opening them in a heartbeat, sending out a wall of searing fire and magma that surged out like a tide and flooded the room. Nor did he wait to see the results of his magic, for he leapt forward even as the tide was turning back and, wading through the burning hellfire, attacked Charlotte with fists and claws. Blow after blow he rained down on the slug-like body, using razor sharp claws to lacerate, puncture, and score the already maimed exterior until Charlotte cried out, a scream of ear-splitting proportions that stunned Koudelka and James in their places and forced Forron back a few feet.

Face scowling, black lips snarling, Forron summoned Hell Fire again and watched with satisfaction as the ghostly girl-turned-monster wailed in pain, her manifested body crisping, blackening and peeling back in a fog of smoke and, as the magma slid back through Hell's gates, he watched as bits and pieces of the monster went with it – Charlotte, the nine year old girl, killed in the monastery and haunting that monastery for hundreds of years, was now gone.

Turning to his companions, Forron thudded heavily across the floor. With a gesture, he told them to stay put and then called forth his magical First Fire, that warming and healing flame that gently bathed all of them, removing toxins from their bodies and filling them with good health. Then finally, Yuri released the fusion and sank to one knee, looking at both James and Koudelka with a sad expression on his face.

"Ya know, much as I hate to say it, I'm sad to have killed her."

Koudelka shook her head. "Yuri, she was already dead; that was the problem."

Yuri ran one clawed hand through his shaggy locks, the razor sharp blades snipping and slicing through tangles and sending a small shower of soft brown hair floating to the floor.

"Yeah, well, still…" he chuckled softly. "Are we good to go?" he finally asked.

Both James and Koudelka nodded and Koudelka led the way back toward the cupboard. She spotted a small door next to the cupboard and opening it, and found it lead into a narrow passage; they took this, finally coming to another door that used the blue-tipped key that Koudelka was carrying, and they stepped through into opulence.

A/N Redux: Hope this one didn't bore you too much. Next time we visit Patrick's mansion, and find an old friend. And warnings in advance: the next one is, as AriesCelestial has told me, over the top on violence.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

A/N: I don't own anything. And if you haven't killed me by now, dear readers, you will by the end of this chapter. Yuri angst, Koudelka angst and James is figuring it all out. Don't know which is scarier! Oh, and – bloody battle alert!

Patrick Heyworth's mansion was beyond anything Yuri had ever seen in his life; to either side of the main doors and to their left, stood two magnificent marble statues, graceful in their feminine form. To the right was a grand staircase leading straight up to the second floor where candles flickered in sconces of polished brass. With his mouth open in bedazzled confusion, he followed Koudelka as she explored the first floor, passing down a side hallway and through a side door to another room, this one lined with gold and rococo scrollwork. In one wall was a strange device and Yuri poked at it finding that it had sprockets with little metal teeth.

"What the hell is this thing I wonder?" he asked and Koudelka shrugged. She was pulling on the handles beneath the device, opening drawers. James joined them and was looking at the machine.

"Hey James, yer a smart one; what is that thing?" Yuri asked, still poking at it.

James snorted softly. "It's a phonographic device, for playing music, you lout," he responded.

Yuri scowled at the priest, and then chuckled quietly. "Yeah, I remember seeing one before, now you mention it. It was in a rich man's house."

James looked at Yuri, his eyebrow raised. "And you stole it?"

Yuri chose to take the remark with humor and shook his head. "No, no," he laughed. "It was too big to go through the window."

James smiled back at the thief. "So, what did you steal? The man's jewels?"

Yuri snorted. "No, clothes mostly, and food."

"Clothes – why?"

"Well, beats being naked," Yuri laughed and walked away, "'sides, that was before I was muscle for the ga—, ah, never mind."

Koudelka, still searching the panels, pulled open the last drawer. Inside was a handmade leather book. She pulled it out and opened the clasp, revealing its pages filled with writing and drawings.

"I think this is Patrick's notebook," she said and offered it to James. He took it and looked carefully at the first few pages, and began to read. After a minute, James looked up in shock at Koudelka and shook his head.

"I don't want to believe this; I cannot believe this," he said. "Could he have been this mad?"

Koudelka shrugged. "Let's go on then shall we?"

Yuri meanwhile had wandered around the highly decorated room and had reached the far end with its large paneled door with brass and gold fittings. He shoved it open and stepped into a much dimmer and more sedate chamber, though no less opulent. It was a portrait gallery; the walls were rich with blue and gold tapestries, with portraits hung in several places, and at the far end, blackened and silent: an abandoned font.

"Anyone taking money there's another monster in there?" Yuri said with a smirk. "I'll give ya even odds."

Koudelka snorted and walked down to the fountain and climbed up to the water font. She waited a minute, trying to sense anything at the fountain.

"There's nothing here," she said and turned back to Yuri. That was a mistake, for as she turned, a dark miasma formed at the foot of the font and a shape moved from the shadows, a long tentacle pulling back and then slamming into Koudelka, throwing her across the room.

Yuri cried out and ran to her, pulling her unconscious body out of the way, as the monster moved off the platform and into the room. This creature was an odd assortment of monstrosities: a ball of dark, fibrous material with four human legs and feet attached to the base that pushed it across the floor in a bent and awkward fashion, while above that there was a long muscular stalk that ended in another bulbous mass with three long, whip-like tentacles and one other appendage with a sharp razor-like tip.

"Don't just stand there James, shoot the damned thing!" Yuri yelled at the priest while he made sure Koudelka was far enough back to be out of harm's way. He then turned to assist the priest, who had loaded his rifle and was pumping round after round into the monster to no effect.

"It's no good, Yuri. The bullets don't seem to bother it," James said, when he paused to reload.

"Yeah, I noticed."

"Koudelka?"

"Unconscious, but alive. It might just be the two of us. What say we find this thing's weakness," Yuri said and then jumped in to rake the claws over the nearest leg, scoring the flesh, but almost instantly the tissue regenerated and Yuri scowled. 'Why is it never easy?'

James had set down his rifle and was summoning magic while Yuri pondered the best fusion to use against this creature. Yuri was thinking possibly fire again when the thing suddenly began to quiver and its limbs waived wildly and, in the next heartbeat, he found himself lying flat on his back, a jolt of energy having left the monster's waiving tentacles and grounded on him. Yuri's ears were ringing and his head spinning; whatever kind of magic that thing had, it was powerful, and Yuri shook his head as he climbed to his feet. In the next instant, a wave of fire burst over the creature, bathing it in a magical flare, but although it shivered in pain, it did not retreat. Yuri snorted.

"Not powerful enough James; you need more practice," he said.

James sighed, looking at the smirking young fighter. "Try helping then, thief. Turn into one of your demons and assist in God's work."

Yuri's smirk faded only a little and he nodded, pulling Forron once more and merging with the huge fire fusion. With a gleeful growl, Forron summoned hellfire, thrusting open the gates to flood the room with a blazing inferno and then jumping in behind the wall of fire to grab a flailing tentacle. He pulled the creature closer with the tentacle, and grabbed the neck-like stalk. He then traded the tentacle for a handful of its lower body, and with a grunt, lifted the thing over his head and tossed it against the far wall. The wall cracked when the monster hit it, bits of rococo decoration falling as dust and plaster and Forron followed through with more fire – flaming magma sweeping over the strange hybrid monster as it struggled to rise.

James, watching Yuri's demon demolish the decorations and dealing lethal blows on the monster, recognized he was better off tending to Koudelka. He scurried behind Forron and knelt at Koudelka's side; she was still unconscious, her breathing shallow and slow. He concentrated on the healing magic she had taught him and gathered it into his hands. Cupped before him, his hands began to glow an earthy green and sparkles of white energy bubbled over his fingers and trickled like fairy dust to the floor; when he felt the spell was ready, he opened his hands and lay them on Koudelka, watching as the healing spell's energy flowed over and into the unconscious woman. After a minute, she blinked her eyes and slowly sat up, a look of surprise then gratitude offered to James for his help.

"Yuri?" she asked, and her answer was an echoing bellow from the area of the font. Both she and James looked toward the noise and saw the huge fusion surrounded by flames and magma, standing with the monster in his hands raised above his head and, with the sickening sound of rending flesh, tore the monster in half, ganglions and tendrils of muscle and sinew draped around him like ribbons and a thin, bubbling black ichor oozing from the twitching monster. With brash self-confidence, Forron slammed the two halves of the monster down into the flames and they ignited, filling the air with rancid smoke.

Rising to her feet, Koudelka shuddered. She carefully dusted off her clothes before approaching the monster, his skin still smoking from the heat of his hellfire flames. She stood in front of him, looking up into his dark eyes, trembling slightly as nervous fear fought with courage to confront the creature. The eyes were the windows of the soul, and she could see Yuri's eyes in the face of the horrifying demon standing before her.

"You enjoy that, don't you?" she asked inanely and then gasped when the fusion was released in a blur and Yuri stood before her, human once more.

"Yeah, I guess," he answered, one grimy hand wiping away sweat and spreading even more filth over his face.

James walked past them, saying nothing, not even looking at them as he approached the dark fountain. He stepped up to the marble bowl, its surface black with soot and crossed himself, offered a blessing to the font, then knelt in prayer. After a minute his blessing and prayers were answered with a burble of clear water bubbling up from below.

"Well," Yuri said watching the priest, "he's a bundle of laughs."

"Yuri, you frighten him; you frighten me," Koudelka said and Yuri, startled, looked down at the smaller woman with a look of pain in his eyes. The sense of their closeness, his feelings of affection for her surfaced and then dashed against the wall of her words.

"I don't mean to," he said softly, and walked down the room to the door. He paused at a portrait set prominently on one wall. It was that of a beautiful, demure young woman and the portrait was framed in gold and with a small nameplate.

"So," he said, "this is Elaine?"

Koudelka joined him and looked at the portrait, the young woman standing with her hands together before her, dressed in a flowing gown of fine material, with lace at collar and cuff, and standing in a lovely garden. She had a sweet face, unprepossessing, and eyes that smiled but also wore just a shade of sadness.

"Yes, she is the one I had the psychic vision of."

James hearing Elaine's name came to them and looked up the portrait, his eyes suddenly tearing up and a shaking hand reached out to touch the frame. He had hoped and prayed that what Koudelka had revealed was a lie; that Patrick, the friend of his school days, would not have let the women of their dreams die so ignominiously. But seeing her portrait, her sad and lonely eyes looking out at him, James knew with a certainty that she was dead. His head rested a moment on the frame, his eyes closed.

Looking at James, Koudelka asked, "Do you doubt it?"

James shook his head, sadly. "No. It is she," he said softly, regretfully, pushing himself away from the painting.

"Good, then let's begin," Koudelka said and facing the portrait, closed her eyes, her arms bent upward in front of her as she began to focus her mind and soul, concentrating on summoning the spirit of the dead woman. After a moment, she moaned and slumped to her knees, exhaustion warring with resolve, her breath coming in short quick pants and in front of her, stepping out of the framed picture, was the near transparent spirit of Elaine Heyworth. The lady looked at James first, her ghostly features warming, and she smiled, transforming in that one moment, into a shadow of the radiantly beautiful girl she had been in life.

"It has been a long time indeed, Mr. O'Flaherty," she said and her voice was melody in motion, fluid, sweet, and distant. "It is such a pity that we meet again, under these circumstances."

"Oh, Elaine… is that really you?" James asked, reaching toward her.

Elaine nodded once and then turned toward Koudelka and Yuri. Yuri had bent and helped Koudelka to her feet once more, offering his strong arms to support her and letting her lean against him.

"And this is the one that responded to my call, is it not? Thank you for doing this for someone like myself," Elaine said.

Koudelka nodded, "Yes."

"Elaine," James interrupted, "I – Please, tell me how this happened to you?"

Elaine turned ghostly eyes to James once more and gestured with one hand, her manner like that of a lady serving tea in the parlor, both graceful and gentle. "Of course I will explain," she said clearly. "Eighteen years ago, James, I was murdered by some thieves that broke into my home."

"Damn," muttered Yuri.

"I was helpless. Patrick and Ogden were out on business, and there was nothing I could do."

James turned and paced to the door, the news of her murder filling his heart with anger and a brief thought of revenge. He waited, his eyes burning holes in the carpet before turning back, his gestures both angry and beseeching.

"I will not accept this," he declared, shaking his head. "This should not have happened," he said, choosing denial.

"Yes," Elaine said softly. "Patrick responded the same exact way. He could not accept my death; he spent years perfecting his craft in wizardry. He tried everything in his power to bring me back to life."

"Resurrecting the dead," Yuri said and Koudelka looked up at him, startled once more, recalling he had said something similar before.

"Is this a joke?" James asked, his look of horror belying his question.

"He was taking it very seriously, and he found the key to actually make it happen."

"The Émigré Document," James said.

"Yes. With Ogden's assistance and the power of the ancient Druids, he held a resurrection ceremony in this monastery, but…"

"But something went wrong, didn't it?" Koudelka added.

"He only resurrected my physical body. As you can see," and she made a gesture that encompassed herself and the monastery, "my soul is still doomed to roam the universe… forever separated from my body. And the terrifying thing is that my body was resurrected as a heartless monster."

James reached out to the ghostly woman, as if to offer her comfort. "Oh, God," he breathed.

"Although the monster may _look_ like me, it is not _me_. Mr. O'Flaherty, please, turn my body into ashes with your power."

"Ashes?" James said, "If – if I do that, we won't be able to bring you back to life!"

"What? You want a monster instead of a woman, James? Yer sick," Yuri said and James rounded on him.

"_Shut up thief_!" he shouted.

"Mr. O'Flaherty, I was robbed of my life by those thieves and I could hate them as mortal enemies, but I do not. Nor do I blame this one who has come to help," Elaine continued. "Rather, I choose to think that my death was preordained by the Lord. Please, do not mourn my death; it was wrong of Patrick to try to resurrect me – to undo the work of God." The ghostly woman paused, watching James shake his head in denial, his face working through the emotions he was trying so hard not to feel. "Please, do not be sad," she continued. "Death is at the heart of God's vision. I want you to destroy my body. Its existence defies the wise providence of Heaven. It must not exist in this world," she said and her ghostly form dwindled like smoke and vanished back into the portrait.

As Elaine faded into the portrait, James let out a cry of despair, collapsing to his knees on the cold stone floor and pounding the floor with his fist, tears flowing unheeded from his eyes and sobs of pain issuing from his clenched jaw.

"Elaine, God! What a cruel world!" he sobbed. "I gave up _everything_ for your happiness and now… what am I left with? I have no meaning in my life! Damn it! What have I been doing with my life?" he shouted, looking up once more at the portrait of the woman he loved and lost. "_Elaine_!"

Yuri looked down at James and nudged him with his foot. "Tsk, come on James, cryin' won't bring her back," he said.

"_Leave me alone_," James said through his distress and Koudelka nodded, taking Yuri's sleeve and pulling him back toward the font.

"Let's take a breather and give James a chance to deal with this," she said.

Yuri tilted his head to look at her closer as they walked back to the font.

"You feelin' okay?"

Koudelka sighed. "Tired, my head hurts, my body hurts..."

"Ah, everything normal," Yuri said with a grin.

Koudleka glanced up at him as she climbed back up onto the font platform. "This is normal for you?"

Yuri chuckled and rubbed his head with his hands, one claw nicking him and a trickle of blood running down the blade.

"Watch yourself with those things, Yuri," she said and then scooped up a handful of water to wash her face.

Yuri laughed softly and sat down next to the font, his back to the wall.

"Yeah," he said breathily, "I always do that." He leaned back and closed his eyes, letting his breathing become steady. He knew that before this night was over he would have to fight again, and there would be at least two fights, both tough. He really needed a nap, but doubted James would let him sleep long. He could hear James' muffled sobs subside into quiet prayers and he heard Koudelka sit down across from him, and a small part wished she would sit next to him, but then his mind wandered and he slept.

The fire in the cooking pit was banked and the pot had been swung back to cool, the miso soup nearly gone and the rice as well. Yuri sat at his lessons, struggling grumpily to master the letters and numbers that his mother had set him but really not wanting to concentrate on them at all. His mind couldn't focus; his heart more on the imminent return of his father from working away. Each year his father left for work and each time Yuri wanted him to stay; of course, he didn't tell either his mother or his father that. He wanted to be adventuring too, but with his dad, not staying home learning his letters and numbers.

"Yuri, concentrate dear," his mother said and he looked up to see her beautiful face smiling at him. His heart beat fast and he smiled, hanging his head.

"But I don't wanna," he said with a whine in his voice.

Anne walked quietly across the small family room of their home and knelt across the fire from him.

"If you won't learn your lessons, then you can pray with me," she said.

Yuri scowled, puckering up his face like a prune. "Men don't pray," he said, and then blushed when his mother laughed.

"You might be surprised," she answered and pulled out her beads.

"Medetashi seichou michimiteru Maria, shu onmi to tomoni mashimasu onmi wa on'na no uchinite shukuserare," Anne recited and her voice faded into echoes of memory and Yuri took up the words, muttering them in his sleep, his voice barely above a whisper.

James looked up startled from his kneeling prayers and listened. He looked at Yuri, leaning crookedly against the wall, his eyes closed, yet muttering something that sounded almost like…

"Yuri, what are those words?" he asked and rose to join them at the font.

Startled, Yuri sat up, his heart pounding fast and a bewildered expression on his face.

"Huh?"

"Those words you were saying; was that Japanese?"

Yuri thought a moment, recalling a fragment of his dream, the soft voice of his mother, and his expression softened. "Yeah, it's a prayer my mom and dad used to say," he answered then chuckled softly. "Well my dad would say it too, but then he'd leave and mom would make sure I said it with her. It's funny," and he rubbed his eyes with his hand and looked up at the holy fountain, the water bubbling softly in the font. "I - I'm actually surprised I remember that after all this time; because the past seems so much clearer to me than what happened this morning." He shook his head. "I keep hoping I'm doing this right. That I'm actually fixing the mess I made." He grew silent again and looked at the holy font, watching as water bubbled and glistened in the font. "Please God, let me be doing this right," he whispered.

Yuri rose to his feet and used the bubbling holy water to wash his face and hands, letting the cool waters sluice away the grime and dirt and repair his fatigue. He didn't feel any more energized, but the accumulation of aches and pains from that last fights dimmed into vague memory and with one final handful, he drank his fill.

Without a backward glance, the three of them left the portrait room and went back to the main hall, Koudelka pausing to look up the long expanse of the staircase.

"Up there you think?" Yuri asked.

"Just what are we looking for? We know that Patrick tried to raise Elaine from the dead, but what can we do now? What is there for us to do?" James asked, bewildered.

"Find the thing that Elaine has become, James," Yuri provided. "It's probably inside the church. Any idea how to get in there?"

Koudelka, climbing the long stairs, glanced back at Yuri and found him looking off in the direction of the church, his eyes glassy.

"Yuri?"

"Huh? What?" he turned to climb the stairs, rescued from tripping by Koudelka's call. "Okay, I got it; watch where I'm goin', right?"

Koudelka shook her head and smiled, wondering just how much of that was buffoonery and how much was Yuri. She climbed the rest of the stairs and took the right hand path leading to a heavy door. She pushed on it and entered a small vestibule that curved around to another door and when she opened that, she stopped in surprise. A large room opened to her view, with tall bookshelves on the right, each shelf over-flowing with tomes and scrolls, and in the center of the room, was several piles of books, and papers were strewn everywhere. And squatting in the middle of this was the old mummy they had discovered earlier.

"It must be here, I saw it here, I put it here," he was muttering as he shuffled through papers and knocked aside a pile of old books.

"Roger? What are you doing here?" Koudelka said, surprised.

"Research, what else," the old monk replied and, turning his bent and angular frame in her direction looked both startled and pleased by her presence. "Ah, I see you've brought your noisy friends," he said.

"Noisy?" Yuri asked and stepped inside the library and crossed the room, squatting down to look up at Roger. "Funny, last time I saw you, you were in a coffin. You alive now? You talkin' ta me?" he asked, leaning in close to the old fossil.

Roger looked down at the young man in front of him and chuckled. "Well of course I am, and you _are_ noisy; running around, shouting, fighting ..." he tisked. "A man can hardly get any work done with you two here," he said and his gesture included James.

James humphed and brought the research notes forward, offering them to the old man.

"If you are indeed that same Roger Bacon of old," he began.

"I am he, Roger Bacon, born in 1214 and alive to this present date," the old fossil responded, straightening himself a bit. "I am author to several books, including my Opus Meijus, but I suppose my greatest work to date would be my coping and translation of the Émigré Document."

"The Émigré – yes, I thought you might know about that book," James finished.

"Roger, what about the Émigré - and those notes? Is it true what it says: did Patrick try to resurrect the dead?" Koudelka asked.

Roger took the notebook and flipped open the first page, scanning quickly over several more, his waspish voice reading out a word or phrase as he did so. Eventually he stopped and, still holding the research notes, turned to face Koudelka.

"Yes, yes it is more than likely the experiments written of here were in fact performed. You see, the Émigré unravels the secrets of life. It speaks of the secret rituals conducted by the ancient race of Fomors centuries before Christ: immortality. The Fomors would claim the lives of the resurrected as their own." Roger paced across the cluttered floor, looking at first Yuri then back to Koudelka. "They reversed the laws of nature and the cycle of life. When the Druids took over the Celts, Alexander the Great penned the Émigré document in Greek for placement in the Great Library"

"Resurrecting the dead," Koudelka muttered and then suddenly looked at Yuri, remembering he had said something like that earlier in the night.

"This document has long been considered _the_ most dangerous work of literature," Roger continued. "It was safely guarded in the caverns of the supreme pontiff's quarters. But, apparently, the book was not able to stand the wears of time over generations, and the Pope decreed that a new edition be created, copying the full text. That is where _I_ came in," and Roger couldn't resist the chance to preen a little before continuing. "The Pope requested that I copy the book, word for word...and when the work was finished, I was apparently supposed to be killed. But _I_ am not one to be dealt with so carelessly! I secretly escaped, and eventually I made my way to the sacred land referred to in the text of the Émigré document."

"All right, then how do we get rid of a monster created by this document," Koudelka asked. "Elaine says Patrick..."

"Yes, yes. There is a way," Roger interrupted, waving his hands and looking up at James. Yuri stood up, settling his fists on his hips, waiting. "It will require the sacred relic of Daniel Scotius; it was buried inside a statue somewhere on the grounds. You find that, and you will be able to break the magic of the cauldron created by Patrick's experiments."

"Cauldron..." Yuri said echoing Roger's words and suddenly he felt dizzy, the library fading in and out of his vision. In the next moment he fell to his knees, skin pale and eyes shading from brown to amber before he fell over onto his side, unconscious.

Yuri's mind was spinning. Roger's words - the cauldron, the ghostly miasma of Nemeton that day - the pretty blonde girl falling to her knees, the feeling of oppression making her heart race. Yuri knelt beside her, his hand reaching out to support her and he watched as she turned suddenly to dust, her body desiccated from the Spirit Machine and he held her in his arms, cursing himself for being a stupid fool. Zhuzhen knelt beside him, taking his hand from the corpse of the young girl.

"It's not your fault," he said.

"The fuck it's not! I shoulda come sooner," Yuri cried and shaking off the old man, ran up the spiral stairs to the rooftop. His boots pounded up the ramp and he exploded onto the roof, slamming the door off its hinges in his haste. But he was too late, the old bastard Dehuai had begun his summoning and there it was - the Reverse Demon's Gate and the Thing he was calling. Looking up, Yuri knew that he would have to take it on alone; the old man below would be no help, nor the stupid blonde spy. With a shrug, he ran toward the monster, his mind a momentary gibber as he cursed himself. 'God damned stupid harmonixer from hell.'

His body rose up on the winds of his power, reaching out with his soul, he merged with the huge God of the Earth, the Seraphic Radiance, and the war for supremacy began. Surprisingly he got the first handhold and held on for dear life; but then he looked down at the earth below, and that smiling ass, Bacon ... where had he come from? And that old fart, Zhuzhen, was shaking his staff at him, and fuck them if they didn't understand! When he looked back at the monster, he saw the red, red eyes looking at him and he knew - he _knew_ he'd lost and it was all his own stupid fault. _His_ fault for being a harmonixer, _his_ fault for being his father's son, _his_ fault for being late. 'If I had listened to that _damned_ voice...'

"Yuri!" Koudelka was saying and shaking him by the shoulder. "Yuri will you wake up!"

Yuri opened sleep clogged eyes and looked up at Koudelka, her hair mussed and her face puffy.

"You been cryin'?" he asked inanely.

"No; I need the midwife – now!" she said and he looked down at her swollen belly, swollen with his children. Jumping up he grabbed her waist, pulling her close.

"It's time? Oh my god, oh my god, where? What? Shit!" he babbled then kissed her and ran down the hall to the stairs.

"Yuri! Your pants!"

"Can't you keep that in your pants? My god!" the blonde exclaimed and the tone of exasperation was belied when Yuri turned to look at the spy and caught her covering her giggles. They were in the Nemeton ruins and Yuri had been caught climbing, his trench coat snagging a piece of metal. Stuck, he'd asked Margarete to help him, but her answer was to grab his legs and pull, removing Yuri from the jagged metal and his pants too.

"If you hadn't ripped my pants I would," the now half-naked fusionist replied. "Now get me the sewing needle before I decide the best way to cover this is inside you!"

"Promises, promises," the spy said and walked away, laughing.

Yuri felt a pressure on his shoulder and looked up. Koudelka stood above him; her lacy top almost holding her in safely and he reached up to touch and got a boot to the ribs.

"Huh? What?" he sat up and looked around. He was still in the library, James and Roger speaking softly in one corner while he... he had been lying on his back, draped over a pile of books. "What am I doing down here?" he asked and jumped to his feet.

"You tell me," Koudelka said, stepping back. "You got dizzy and fainted. I've been trying to wake you for over ten minutes."

"Ah - oh, sorry. I don't know what..." he paused and remembered Roger's words about a cauldron. "Alice," he said softly, his eyes blurring at the edges.

Roger and James finished speaking and Roger approached them on bent and wobbly legs. "Who is Alice?" he asked.

"The girl he accidentally killed," Koudelka replied as she offered Yuri a bit of cheese from her pack. He refused, shaking his head.

"No," James said, "that was someone else," and he was looking intently at Koudelka. "What happened?"

"Um, really," Yuri was fishing about himself as a distraction, patting himself down, looking for something, then suddenly reached into his pant's pocket. "Hey Roger, are these important too?" he asked and handed over the packet he had thrust into his trousers before; the ribbon wrapped letters bent and crushed from his pocket.

"Wait! Where did you get those?" Koudelka asked, pulling the packet of ribbon-tied envelopes from Yuri's hand.

"Um, the safe in the library," he said.

Koudelka paused in removing the ribbon and glared at him. "That safe was locked. How did you get the combination?"

"Well," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck again, "I didn't; I just sorta opened it."

"Without the combination?" she asked again, and when Yuri didn't respond, she nodded. "That's how you broke your hand, isn't it?"

"Well, um," Yuri hesitated, looking down at the worn carpet, the toe of one boot digging at a rent, tearing it more before he stopped and shrugged. "Let's go, okay?" Without waiting for a response, Yuri headed for the door, his stride quick and sure and just a heartbeat slower than a run.

"What are those?" James asked.

"Letters," Koudelka said, opening the first and reading it. "From the Queen of Hanover to her daughter, Charlotte."

"Oh my god," James whispered.

As they slowly followed Yuri out to the second floor landing, Koudelka read the first few letters to James.

"Seems her mother married someone she didn't love; an arranged marriage. The girl's father was her lover, not her husband. Charlotte was taken away and her mother locked up inside Alden castle, unknowing about what had happened to her daughter. The whole time she thought Charlotte was growing up, prospering." Koudelka skipped ahead to the last letter in the pack and sighed. "This last letter is dated two years after Charlotte was murdered."

James shook his head. "Why did Yuri hold on to those I wonder?"

Koudelka shrugged and placed the letters in her pouch. "Who knows? He's not always …" she hesitated.

"Rational?"

Koudelka's lips made a delicate moue, "Yes," she responded and crossed the landing to the far door and stepped through. James paused, looking back at the door to the library and then around at the opulent home that had belonged to his old friend Patrick. He silently marveled at the artistic grace and style that Patrick displayed in the main foyer, but at the same time, the richness bothered him; such a waste of money better spent on the works of God. But no, Patrick had spent his wealth buying arts, and treasures and forbidden magicks to raise up the one he loved. And at the thought of love, James paused, his mind frozen on a single thought. Love, the things one will do for love; and Yuri.

'He's mad, she's mad, we're all mad,' he thought. 'But he's in love, as I once was.' He crossed the landing and paused at the door, his hand on the handle and his eyes suddenly wide. 'He's here to fix something; he accidentally killed someone and it wasn't this Alice person.' His heart was racing and he felt drops of perspiration bead up on his forehead. "Sweet Jesu," he muttered softly then opened the door.

Voices were raised and James looked around to find that Koudelka and Yuri had gone on through another door at the end of the bedroom. This room too was opulent, with a roaring fireplace, ancient tomes and scrolls on the bookshelf and further in a four-poster bed with thick comforters and pillows. Just past the bedroom, James hesitated at the door. Koudelka and Yuri were arguing beyond.

"You should have _told_ me, Yuri. It might have helped! God damn you are dense sometimes!"

"I am not! How was I supposed to know they were important? I can't read the damned things!"

Koudelka shook the packet of letters in his face and snorted. "You could have told me and I would have read them. We didn't need to condemn that girl to hell because you are an illiterate ass!"

"I am not illit – illit – what you said. I _can_ read; I just couldn't make out the fancy writing is all."

Yuri was pacing back and forth in front of a large worktable in Patrick's laboratory area; the room was lined with cupboards and equipment, scales, weights and notebooks. He stopped at the fireplace and was kicking at a handle wielded to the floor.

"I didn't mean to, besides, she's not in hell, she's in here," and he tapped his chest.

"What?" Koudelka crossed the floor in a heartbeat and, grabbing his elbow, spun him around. "What do you mean by that?"

Yuri looked down at the floor, his vision of the world tumbling and twisting; Koudelka was yelling at him, and he could hear her screaming at him to hurry up and catch the train and he was mad because he didn't have any money and she wasn't believing him – and she was standing in front of him telling him he'd sent some dead girl to hell but he knew she was in his graveyard.

"Yuri!"

"She's here," he tapped his chest, "in my graveyard. Where I keep the fusions is all."

Koudelka stepped back, eyes blinking rapidly. "Ex- explain what you mean Yuri. I – I need to understand," Koudelka said, her voice growing suddenly quiet.

Yuri looked up at her and saw her staring at him with flashing brown eyes and he wanted to explain, but he was nervous; they had just met, and the train was gone and damn but there were monsters all around. Why did she have to look at him with those big blue eyes? It made his knees weak and then when _he_ came, saying she had made it happen, he was afraid. He was afraid of her; he was afraid of _him_, he was afraid of himself and how the hell could he explain all that?

"Yuri?" Koudelka asked, finally reaching out to touch his arm again. "Are you with me, Yuri?" she asked.

"I – I can explain, I really can. Well, sort of," he said and his eyes drifted back down to the floor, seeing the tufts of weeds growing out of the dry dirt and wisps of fog floating over his feet. "I kill monsters; an' I absorb their malice … um, their hatred of me killin' them – their souls- and I make the fusions from them. But the girl, well, she's not really there. I mean," he rubbed his face with one hand and looked up at the ceiling. "I mean, she is and she isn't because I don't really need to make another and I'll probably just let her go. Do you understand what I'm tryin' to say, Alice?"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:

A/N Nope, don't own them. More Sex, Drugs, and Rock 'n Roll … oops, no, wrong story. Long chapter, sorry. Scripting thanks this time goes to gutterfiend for Shadow Hearts. And for the record: A little Yuri/Koudelka Lemony stuff. There, you've been warned.

James shook his head and pushed open the door, seeing Yuri backed up to the fireplace and Koudelka confronting him. He looked confused, a bit forlorn and, for all James could tell, totally lost in his own mind.

'Is he even seeing us anymore?' he wondered. "Koudelka," he said.

"Now is not a good time, James," Koudelka said quietly.

"It will never be a good time, not for him," James said and crossing the room, took Koudelka by the arm and pulled her back. "Don't you see? He's mad; he is not in this time or place anymore. He doesn't know who you are – who I am."

Koudelka looked up and saw Yuri looking around the room, his eyes appearing focused but she could see then the traces of his madness, his confusion. Sighing she agreed.

"I guess you're right. I – I knew he would possibly lose his way; the things he said, the mess he made. I was hoping it would be after all this," and she gestured at the laboratory. "He's at the center of a great storm, James."

"I think you need to know, Koudelka; he loves you," James said.

"He loves _me_?" Koudelka laughed. "Yes, and this Alice person he thinks I am."

Yuri turned at mention of Alice's name and looked at James and Koudelka, his eyes shifting from amber back to brown.

"Alice is … not here," he said, his voice hesitant.

"No, she's not," Koudelka said.

"I need to save her though; and save… oh," he blinked and shook his head, clearing away cobwebs, scattering the fragments that were gyrating in his memory. 'What was I doing just now?' He looked around the room and frowned. "Where the hell are we?"

Both Koudelka and James looked up at the confused fusionist and sighed.

"He's back with us," James commented.

"Did I go somewhere?" Yuri asked and scratched his head. "Weren't we yakkin' with Old Rog?" he asked looking from James to Koudelka and back.

"Never mind Yuri. We need to find a way to the church," James said. "Roger said we will find the cauldron in the Sanctuary."

"Oh, well that's no problem," Yuri said with a grin. "We go in through the front door, like we did earlier," Yuri started then suddenly looked surprised. "Oh, no, that wouldn't work. He's there."

"The gargoyle," Koudelka stated

"Yeah, him too. I'll have to take care of him before too long. But," and Yuri brightened. "I know we get in."

James sighed. "How?"

"I dunno," Yuri said and turned back to the fireplace. Unlike the one in the bedroom, this one was dark and had neither firewood nor coal, just a large metal plate in the floor with a handle. "How about down here?" and he kicked the handle with his boot.

Koudelka crossed the room and knelt at the fireplace, pulling on the handle. After a moment, the metal plate moved back revealing it to be a hatchway with a ladder descending into the dark below. Looking up at Yuri, Koudelka grinned.

"How do you do that?" and she descended the ladder.

A minute later all three were at the bottom, a small room with only one other door and it was locked. Yuri scowled.

"This locked door shit is getting annoying," he said and pulled on the door handle again.

"Maybe it's a special lock, requiring something," James offered.

"I've got its something special. Move back," Yuri said and both James and Koudelka moved back toward the ladder, fully expecting to see one of Yuri's monsters manifest. Instead, Yuri himself backed up, hunkering down to bunch up muscles, then suddenly leaping at the door in the narrow confines of the room and slamming feet first into the door; with a loud bang, the door flew off its hinges and skidded on the floor into the next room.

"Ha!" Yuri crowed and walked through; it was a small outside passage leading from Patrick's mansion to the main church and Yuri used the door as a bridge across a watercourse that flowed quickly toward the sea from under the building. There was yet another door ahead and this he pushed open with no resistance.

Koudelka and James exchanged looks but said nothing, following behind the fighter as he entered and then explored what was obviously a vestry. He wandered around while Koudelka and James investigated the vestry and when he came to another set of doors, he pushed these open and stopped.

"Hey, Koudelka! James, check this out!" he called and wandered up a long isle. He paused at the center, looking at a huge metal double door, closed and bolted with thick iron bands crossing both doors. The room itself, more a hallway than vestry room, was richly decorated with gold and indigo and the iron railings had all been polished and scrubbed clean of rust. James was walking slowly up the isle, admiring the accumulation of wealth and Koudelka stopped at Yuri's shoulder.

"Well, there's the main door to the Sanctuary," she said. "Any idea how to open it?"

"Not my feet, that's for damned sure," Yuri said. He approached the door and gave it a good, hard bang with his fist. It rang with a solid sound and Yuri looked back James. "We'd need explosives. Too bad Maggie isn't here."

James ignored Yuri's inane comment and considered their options. The only other entrance that they knew of was blocked by the gargoyle; not an enemy they would willingly face. So they had to have explosives to get though this door.

"You know," he said, "if I had some acid, I know I could use some of the chemicals I saw in Patrick's laboratory to mix up some nitroglycerine."

"Nito-whatsie?" Yuri queried and Koudelka waived him off.

"The septic tank still had some acid, and I saw an empty bottle upstairs in the lab; we could use that."

"Tell you brains what," Yuri interrupted, you wait here, or better yet, in the lab, and I'll get the bottle and the acid. I'll take the shortcut." Koudelka and James both looked at him with puzzled expressions. He laughed. "I'll use that arbor to get there."

"But Yuri, the door from the arbor is broken; you couldn't get through before."

"Well," he chuckled, "not with you inside I couldn't. Trust me, I'll get out and be back in a flash. You just stay here and be safe," he said and approaching her, touched her cheek gently with one finger, curling it down around her chin, before barreling off.

Koudelka blinked a moment and then sighed. 'It's like harnessing a whirlwind.'

Yuri scrambled back up the ladder and, stopping only long enough to grab the small glass laboratory bottle from the nearby shelf, made quick time down the grand staircase to the mansion's front door. He threw back the bolt and rushed out onto the inner grounds of the monastery, and stopped for only a moment to get his bearings. Above, the sky was still thick with dark clouds obscuring the full moon. To his left, a marble statue stood in darkness and to his right the entrance to the church and the gargoyle. He smirked, knowing he'd get that thing later and quickly looked around to make sure he hadn't arrived yet. Ahead, with its grated iron door was the arbor, and Yuri sprinted across the grounds, pushing inside quickly before letting the grate bang shut behind him.

Inside, the arbor was an abattoir. A chopping block was set in the corner with severed rope ties for hands and feet. Wheels on the block table showed it could be rolled up to the guillotine set conveniently for killing, and at the foot of the machine lay two corpses, the caretakers Ogden and Bessy. Ogden had been shot in the back of the head, while Bessy... Yuri snorted.

"She blew her own head off. How tacky," he said and climbed over the dead bodies to the hatchway behind the guillotine. A trail of blood trickled across the floor and down a drain, while blood still spattered the floor and top rungs of the ladder descending to the basement level where they had found Koudelka. This small room too was a charnel pit of blood and gore; a dissection table was set up in the center with remains still clinging to winch and cinch and blood dripped from the ceiling and into a reservoir. Yuri shook his head and crossed the small open space to the broken door. The huge doors were metal, bronze and iron turning green with age, and carved with runes that Yuri had not noticed on the other side. The center of the doors, where the two panels met, was deeply dented and bent back as if someone had used a crowbar to try to open them. This same bend in the metal Yuri used to reach in and caress Koudelka when they met up again and he paused, feeling a warm glow in his chest looking at the spot.

"Ah come on, you've got work ta do," he grumbled to himself and stepped back, summoning Forron. He knew fire would not bother the doors, fire having scorched those doors once before to little effect. However, Forron, like all his fire souls, loved to brawl and Yuri felt like beating on something; the doors would do nicely. With his first strike, Forron dented the center door panel even further, cracking the metal in places and sending little flakes of copper and iron filings into the air. The next blow punched through the door and Forron howled in joy, pounding again and again with all his might at the huge metal doors. In less than five minutes, he had reduced one of the doors to a pummeled heap, and ripped the other door off its hinges.

Releasing the fusion, Yuri climbed over the mess he had made and sprinted to the septic tank at the far side of the underground cavern. When he was finished, he stopped at the underground shrine for a quick drink of water and then climbed back into the arbor's basement room. That's when he spotted the far doors - the one's Koudelka said she had taken to escape. Curious, he opened them, entering a short corridor and, with a shrug, following it through the double doors at the end. There he arrived at another shrine, this one bigger than all the others; a great circle was inscribed on the floor plate and around the circle, runes had been incised. At the far end of the shrine, a waterfall cascaded down from some underground natural source and beyond the falls, two doors. Without thinking, he crossed the shrine and took the right hand door, pulling on it; but it would not budge. He scratched his head, puzzled and then tried again.

When nothing happened again, he leaned against the doors and listened, the backwash of cascading water a thunder in the metal of the doors.

"Hmm, well this is quite a place," he muttered. "Hard to believe the basement contains all this." He closed his eyes and listened to the water behind him. "It's enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up straight."

_"The spirits in this place are very different from any other place_…" Alice's voice, soft and feminine, echoed in the open space of the shrine. _"They're just nothingness that floats around."_

"Alice?"

_"I've been expecting you." _

_"Albert old buddy, where ya been hidin' yerself these days?"_

_"I'm right above you. Please come on up."_

_"You just sit tight! We'll be there before you know it!"_

Yuri leaning against the door, his forehead to the cold metal, sighed. He turned back to the waterfall shrine and headed back the way he came, climbing up to the arbor and out into the inner monastery grounds. Looking up at the moon, briefly clear of the scudding clouds, Yuri thought back to that long ago afternoon they had fought Albert Simon in the bowels of the Monastery, and a small smile quirked his lips.

"Ya thought ya had me then, didn't ya," he said quietly. "But I beat ya, and yer god, and I saved the world." He looked around the grounds, scanning for enemies before taking off at a quick sprint for the mansion. "And now I gotta do it again, this time against me."

James and Koudelka had stayed in the first floor vestry for about fifteen minutes waiting for Yuri, James pacing while Koudelka explored. She found a small, ornately decorated chapel off to the side and once she lit the candles, revealed it to be a splendid lady's chapel. Above the small altar something flashed in the candle light and she looked around before climbing up to investigate. In the shadows behind the altar and along the line of the windows lay a sword; the blade was long and squarish in shape with a pronounced bloodline and stains on the blade itself, while out from the haft came two viciously sharp tines. The entire weapon reeked of violent death and she removed it cautiously, taking it to show James.

James had wandered further into the vestry, stopping at the far doors in sheer boredom. He heard Koudelka's call and waited for her, one hand on the door handle.

"What did you find?" he asked, and his eyes grew narrow at sight of the nasty sword.

"It's heavy; and it's got a feeling about it," Koudelka said, showing it to James. "It's not evil, but it seems to deal with death in some way."

James chuckled, a nasty sound in the empty vestry. "All weapons deal in death. I wonder what it does that it would be here - in this church?"

"Cursed no doubt," she answered and set it down, leaning it against the doors. "Where were you going?"

"Just wandering," he said "and wondering how long that idiot will be."

"He's not an idiot; he's just… I don't know, confused I suppose," Koudelka said and looked back down the vestry hall toward the doors. She listened for a moment for his footsteps then turned back to James.

"Yes, as you said before, touched by the hand of madness," James continued. "But I wonder Koudelka, and I worry; for he seems attached to you, and I think, I don't know for sure, but I _think_ you are involved in this _mess_ he's trying to fix."

Koudelka ran a hand through her hair, pulling free a tangle, and holding on to the end of her ponytail in contemplation.

"All I know is he is at the center of this energy he's experiencing; it's like he is existing in more than one place and more than one time. I don't know how to explain it."

"Yes, I have that feeling as well. But is that possible?"

Koudelka shrugged. "Too often he's known things he shouldn't have; for example the cauldron and the experiments to resurrect the dead. He said something similar earlier. _How does he know_?"

Yuri scrambled in the front door of Patrick's mansion just ahead of a pair of razor sporting headless monsters. He could have taken them on his own and he knew it, but with James and Koudelka waiting, and him already having spent too much time wandering around below, he didn't feel like taking the time. He raced up the stairs, through the bedroom and into the lab then slid down the ladder to the vestry entrance and kicked open the door, yelling.

"I'm back – hey! Where is everybody?" Looking around he saw he was alone in the dreary candlelit vestry and he sighed. "You'd think they'd wait or something," he muttered and walked up the isle to the next door where he paused, hearing James and Koudelka speaking.

"Well I doubt he's a prophet," James was saying. "He doesn't have the faith."

"You can be a prophet without believing in your God, James. No, it's not that. I know he's drawn to me, and…" Koudelka looked down at her boots, poking a toe into the corner of the carpet runner. "And I feel something for him to, I admit it. But whatever this thing is that he has to fix, whatever it is he's doing, _that_ is what is driving him. He may not even remember what he is doing or why, if I understand the currents around him, but at the same time, I cannot interfere. Nor can you."

"Koudelka, I think you are the one he…" James hesitated, thinking about what he wanted to tell her. Should he reveal his speculations? That's all they were really, as hard evidence was not to be found for this or for that matter anything that had happened in this monastery. "He's always protecting _you_," he began again. "He's always looking out for you."

"And _you_, don't forget. He promised to protect both of us."

"More you than me," James said with a smile. "But it's always you. Why? I think it's because the one he killed, is you."

Koudelka looked up at James in shock and then shook her head, "You're imagining things."

Yuri had heard enough. It was one thing to be talked about, and another thing to spread bad stories. James was not to interfere, not now, not when it was so close. He pushed open the doors and stepped in, crossing the vestry with a few quick steps. He handed James the bottle of acid.

"I'm back; and you talk too much, priest," he said.

James' expression remained stoic as he took the bottle. "I'll go to Patrick's lab and get working on this."

Yuri nodded and looked at Koudelka. "You wanna wait here? Or upstairs where there's a fire?"

Koudelka picked up the strange sword and handed it to Yuri. "Upstairs is fine. And… and we need to talk," she said and followed James out of the vestry.

Yuri held the odd sword and watched as Koudelka left the vestry, leaving him standing in the near dark.

"What's with that alla sudden?" he asked no one in particular and then with a shrug, shouldered the menacing blade and followed. Koudelka was waiting in Patrick's bedroom and James firmly closed the laboratory door after shooing him away.

"Leave me be, Yuri; this is dangerous and in order to blow that door, I'll need a full flask." James had looked at Yuri with an odd twinkle in his eyes. "If I drop that flask I'll be knocking on heaven's door; you wouldn't want that now, would you?"

Yuri opened his mouth to retort than closed it with a grin.

"He's in a good mood," he said to Koudelka only to find she had left the room. In a panic, Yuri ran out to the landing only to stop at the door when Koudelka appeared with a basket of food and a couple of bottles of wine. "I thought…" he said.

"I thought you might be hungry. Here," she said and handed him some bread and cheese. "Go give these to James before he gets too far along." Yuri took the food and knocked on the laboratory door, and silently weathered James' deep scowl at the interruption, although he took the food and closed the door again with a resounding thud.

"Ingrate," Yuri muttered and returned to Koudelka. She had set the basket on the hearth by the fire and was poking the logs into a bright and cheery blaze. Yuri set the sword down on the floor and flopped down, stretching his shoulders a little to ease the armored vest. "I'm hungry; I don't suppose there are any meat pasties in there?"

Koudelka, sitting down next to him, laughed. "I doubt that; bread and cheese from our good friend Roger Bacon. The wine is from Patrick's private stores," she picked up a bottle and squinted at the label. "It's at least five years old," she said with a grin.

"Oh, ancient stuff then," Yuri also broke into a grin and popped open the cork on his bottle, offering it to her.

Koudelka accepted the bottle and exchanged it for her own, sitting back near the firedogs, the heat of the crackling blaze warming her and removing the gloom that had filled her since she first climbed up the northwest wall of the monastery. She watched as Yuri ate a few bites of the food and pulled deeply on the wine, the headiness making him stop and cough a bit.

"Wow, good shit," he said around his cough and looked up at Koudelka's giggle.

"You are a big oaf, aren't you?" she asked and couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled to the surface on the wine's bouquet.

Yuri grinned, leaning forward to offer her a bit of the bread. "I have heard that, yes. Along with uncultured heathen, ignorant ass, stupid country bumpkin, and bakiinfu-kun, but that last one earned the guy a broken jaw and a bloody face."

Koudelka looked at him and shook her head, puzzled. "A what?"

"Ah," Yuri laughed, "never mind. It's a bad thing to say anyway. So, what do people call you? Besides beautiful, sexy, vivacious, and tempting."

Koudelka felt a blush rising up to her already heat flushed cheeks. "You are an ass, aren't you? Do you ever take anything seriously?" as soon as she'd said it Koudelka instantly knew that was the wrong tack to take with him. She watched as dark brown eyes shifted to amber and he grew quiet, taking another long pull on his bottle of wine.

"Yeah, I take some things seriously," he replied. "Fighting monsters, rescuing damsels in distress and sex."

"Not necessarily in that order," Koudelka supplied and had the satisfaction of watching his smile bloom into a wide, toothy grin.

"So how 'bout yerself," he asked. "What kinda life did you have? Any family?"

Koudelka took a long pull on her bottle of wine and shook her head. "No, I've been alone since I was a child; my father died and my mother abandoned me."

"Just like you told Charlotte? Really? That's the pits."

"That's all right; I'm used to it now," she paused, the wine beginning to do more than warm her insides. "I am a dirty, ignorant woman; but as a child, living alone, selling my body to escape the cold winter nights…" she paused again and stared vacant eyed into the fire. "When I was a child I predicted the exact time and method of my father's death; imagine that. My mother hated me; the village I was born in feared me. I did what I could to survive but I wouldn't wish this on anyone."

"Yer psychic stuff?"

"Yes, my psychic stuff," Koudelka looked back at him. "Can you imagine what that was like for me? Even a little?"

Yuri nodded, "Yeah, I can. Being alone myself, yeah," he nodded and scooted closer to her, leaning down on one elbow at the fireplace. "I guess we both had hard childhoods; I don't think much back on that, living from hand to mouth, doin' what needed ta be done. I – my memories are really fucked up right now," he said with a laugh, "but I know I did some horrible things to live. Stealin' and bustin' jaws was just the start of it."

Koudelka nodded, remaining silent in her own memories for a few minutes then, "Tell me what happened Yuri; what happened to bring you here?"

Yuri shrugged, one shoulder slouching inelegantly and he took another swig of his wine, letting its warmth relax him and blur the edges of his mind.

"Hard for me to remember straight an' the wine ain't helpin' any," he said evasively.

"Try. I – I need to know."

Yuri, his eyes beginning to blur around the edges, looked at the beautiful gypsy half reclining next to him. She was alluring in a mysterious and dark fashion. He found himself mesmerized by her oddly colored eyes and wondered if that's what others felt when they saw his. He took another drink, letting the rich red wine flow down his throat and settle like a warm fire in his stomach.

"I was told that something happened to get it all started… the confusion in my life. I suddenly didn't have a wife, although I remembered her." He frowned, staring at the crackling blaze for a moment, his mind trying to recapture… was it only yesterday? "I found myself with a family that wasn't mine, but yet... was. I didn't have the wife I married an', and nothing was making any sense. I came to Nemeton to see Roger, but then somethin' happened and here I am; only I made it worse."

"By killing someone important?"

"Yeah, but not on purpose. I – interfered at the wrong time," he said softly, his deep voice nearly a whisper. "I shoulda kept my mouth shut but all I saw was a woman in danger and didn't think."

'A woman in danger,' Koudelka thought, hearing the words reverberate in her mind and she felt a sudden tightness in her chest. 'James was right.'

"Yuri…" she tried to speak, but the tightness was clutching at her and she suddenly couldn't breath, her heart laboring and she dropped the wine bottle, spilling the remains onto the hearth, her hand reaching up to her throat as if she were choking.

Yuri looked up and saw her look of horror and fear, and instantly regretted saying anything. He sat up and pulled her into his arms, holding her close, stroking her hair.

"I'm sorry; me an' my big mouth," he said. "I think I've had enough wine if I'm sayin' things I shouldn't."

"No, no it's all right, Yuri," Koudelka gasped quietly, her voice weak. "I asked."

"You know don't you; you know who it was I killed," he said, speaking softly, making it a statement.

Koudelka, her head leaning on his broad armored chest nodded, her hair pulling free from her ponytail and falling around her shoulders.

"I know."

"I have to fix it; by protecting you, and preventing what happened from happening. I know," he said and his voice lowered to a throaty whisper again and it sounded deep to Koudelka whose head rested yet on his chest. "I know what I have to do – stop myself. I'll be here … shortly. Just about dawn. I'll be in the church, fighting the gargoyle and then, following the fighting up to the roof. That's when it happened – and I will stop myself. I will, I promise you. An' you will come out of this alive." He punctuated that last by putting a finger under her chin and lifting her face, bending slightly, and pressing his lips to hers.

Her lips parted invitingly at his kiss and the warm pool of the wine suddenly ignited and he felt himself wanting her again, wanting to do more than just hold her, wanting to caress her, love her, make love to her. Koudelka's arms came up around his neck as she shifted next to him, her fingers snaking through his shaggy hair and she pursued him, her lips kissing along his jaw, nipping at his ear, her tongue stroking a line of fire along the lobe. Yuri found his hands sliding up her back inside her jacket and vest, tugging on the laces of her black camisole and slipping inside to caress her bare flesh.

Koudelka pushed back from him, allowing his hands to move up and remove her clothing over her head, baring her breasts to his amber gaze. She climbed onto his lap facing him, her hands pulling at the lacings of his armored vest while they both kissed, lips gently sucking, tongues caressing, tasting, exploring each other. One hand caressed a breast, another hand pulled open buttons; one hand slid down panties, and another slid inside trousers. Breaths were coming rapidly and Yuri moved his lips down to nip at Koudelka's neck, following down to the point of her shoulders, his fingers caressing and exploring Koudelka's warm recesses. Koudelka herself was torn between desire and caution, her body responding to Yuri's advances, her heart to his trust but her mind to where they were.

"W-what about James?" she stammered, shuddering as Yuri removed her panties.

"Let him find his own woman," was the fusionist's husky reply and Koudelka's hand, inside his trousers and working up and down his shaft had him wanting her more than life itself right now. She pushed down the trousers and brought him out, her hands moving in time to her rapid breathing.

"K-Koudelka…" he gasped and then his mind snapped. He rolled over, pushing her to the floor, covering her, his aching need dictating the direction he would take and he plunged in, all unknowing, all uncaring, his mind seeing Koudelka writhing beneath him, her white-blonde hair falling down around the bed and her ice blue eyes burning with passion. Fair arms wrapped around his neck, a soft voice whispered in his ear as he plunged again and again into the love that was his wife, the caress that was the woman he married, the passion that was …

"Alice…" Yuri moaned as his climax brought him back to reality with the slamming of a door behind him.

"Can't you two wait until this is over?" James asked from the doorway.

Koudelka grabbed her clothing as Yuri moved off and James returned to wait in the laboratory. She was still riding the tide of their passion, but wondered again, who exactly was Alice. He said her name. He said _her_ name while making love to me, so she must be his wife, the one who carried their baby, the one who died. Curiosity warred with disappointment and she pulled on her clothes in silence.

Yuri waited at the laboratory door, watching as Koudelka put on her shoes and straighten her hair back into its ponytail. He watched her with an affectionate eye, wishing they'd had more time, but he had hopes they would have time enough when this night was finally over. Outside the sky was beginning to show the first signs of dawn in the east and little streams of yellow light were coming in the windows. They had to hurry; he was coming too and, in the pit of his stomach, Yuri knew what he had to do.

"You ready?" he asked holding the door for her.

"Yes." Koudelka passed into the laboratory and climbed back down the ladder to the vestry; James, having gone ahead, was waiting at the vestry door.

"If we place this against the door and shoot it, it should open a nice hole for us," he said, avoiding looking at Koudelka and staring intently at Yuri.

Yuri frowned. "_What_?" he exclaimed. "You were busy."

"Now is not the time," James said and led the way into the vestry.

The great grey doors of the Sanctuary entrance, with their black iron studs and bars, loomed above them and James placed the flask of nitroglycerin on the floor next to them and walked back.

"We need to shoot the bottle then," he said and looked at Yuri. "I guess I should do it."

"I'm probably a better shot than you any day buddy," Yuri said, remembering James's shots at the monster in the underground tunnel.

James stared at the young fusionist, refusing to relinquish the rifle when Koudelka took the double action pistol from her pouch and fired. The resulting explosion deafened them, and the force of the blast shook the ground. Plaster and molding fell from the ceiling and smoke billowed as the doors crashed open and flew into the Sanctuary. Yuri had knelt when the blast pushed smoke and debris back into the vestry and he stood looking into the church.

"Holy fucking shit," he muttered, and stepped through the doors into the Sanctuary. The church was huge, with a large stained glass window facing the east and next to that an altar. To his upper right rose a lectern and just above that a pipe organ, its pipes dingy and brown with age. In the center of the room was a stone crypt with a statue lying in state of Saint Daniel Scotius. And throughout the Sanctuary, climbing up from below and bursting forth near the altar, climbing up into the choir loft and spreading like a cancer, was a huge vine-plant, its roots as big as a man with thorns the size of a knife blade.

"Yuri, please, refrain within God's house," James said but Yuri shook his head.

"Look at this damned plant James; look at it! It's huge!" and he pointed to where it reached to the ceiling.

James looked. "That does not excuse you," he answered. "Where do we find this cauldron Roger Bacon was talking about?" he asked and took a few cautious steps inside.

"Whoa there! Watch yerself!" Yuri shouted and grabbed James by the collar, pulling him back just as a thorny root moved, snaking toward him. "It's big; probably below here somewhere," Yuri said with one arm sweeping the Sanctuary area, the floor now a writhing mass of thorny roots.

Koudelka looked up at the pulpit and then tapped Yuri's shoulder. "This way." She crossed the floor quickly, jumping over one root that was as big around as a barrel, and quickly climbed the stairs. Up and around and up again, stopping at the pulpit to stare out over the sanctuary and at the huge twisting tree-like trunk that grew from the floor and then up through the floor of the choir loft. Beyond were the stained glass windows and the early morning light sending yellow shafts piercing the clouds and thrusting down through the glass to illuminate the root infested floor. Shuddering, she turned to climb up to the organ, another flight of stairs above her.

The organ was actually not much more than a stand with control pegs, but the pipes themselves made up the entire wall, starting at floor level and climbing in long straight lines to the ceiling. Koudelka looked at the control board and hesitated. She studied the keyboard to the right and found that the buttons had been locked in place, as had the buttons on the left but four buttons were loose and they all had markings, runes like she had seen in the Sub-Hall Shrine when she had been separated from the others; those same runes had been on the marble statues on the inner grounds and throughout the monastery. She pulled her pouch around and removed the letter she had found pinned to the teddy bear earlier that evening. She read it again.

"He performed the Secret experiment to forget the Pain of love. May all People be saved by God's divine Lights," she read aloud.

"What's that?" Yuri asked, leaning on the stair railing below her.

"It's a note I found; there are words written here and a rune after each word," she said and looked up at the keyboard and then smiled. "And they match the keys that move on the board."

"So, push 'em," Yuri said and stretched.

Koudelka did just that, following the words in the letter, pressing first the rune for Secret then Pain, followed by People and Light. Almost immediately, a deep thrumming note was sounded from the pipes, a discordant sound that rumbled through the walls and an answering rumble from below. James, standing at the foot of the stairs called out.

"The crypt opened!"

"Hmph," Yuri snorted, "can't say much for his taste in music." He headed back to the ground floor taking the steps two at a time and jumping over the railing six feet from the floor. "Now, for the crypt."

Rubbing his hands together Yuri headed back across the Sanctuary toward the crypt, jumping over one large root as it writhed in his direction. James, waiting for Koudelka to descend, shook his head.

"Idiot," he said quietly.

"I heard that James," Yuri called with a laugh and quickly descended the stairs below the crypt, for the platform had slid back revealing a stone stairway descending beneath the crypt and into the basement of the church. At the bottom, Yuri faced a room overgrown with dry and withered root stems, dark and dirty and musty smelling, and full of memories. No sooner had he stepped onto the stone slabs of the floor than he felt an overwhelming sense of returning. In an alcove stood the cauldron, its bowl black with grime and age. At the base, wrapped around in root fibers was a mummy, its dry and desiccated face still wearing eyeglasses. And in the cauldron, growing from it and spiraling up through the shattered ceiling was a tree, and Yuri suddenly felt dizzy, falling to his knees and listening.

"Wh-what is this place? It's full of evil spirits…" Alice said, collapsing to her knees, panting. Yuri knelt down beside her and gently touched her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

The old man, Roger Bacon, had paused and turned to look at the three of them, Alice, Yuri and Zhuzhen, and he was grinning in amusement.

"Can you sense the atmosphere of curse and chaos that remains here? I'm _proud_ of you. Koudelka's power sealed him, but his spirit remains… It makes me shiver to even think of him."

Alice rose to her feet and Yuri stayed close, protectively, while Zhuzhen moved past them to look at the unrecognizable mess in the middle of the underground room.

"What is that?" he asked, tapping its sides with his staff; it made a hollow thunking sound.

"The large pot was used to create a human who shouldn't have existed," Roger explained, pointing at the cauldron, its top bent, warped, and showing signs of fire damage as well. "Elaine's body, without her soul, turned into an inhuman entity - Patrick didn't intend for that…" Roger sighed. "Since ancient times, this place has been called Neam. It contains a mysterious power. There are other places like this as well and all of those places are situated upon the Earth's 'nerve points'."

"Earth's nerve points?" Yuri asked. "You mean like in acupuncture?" he said, trying hard to understand.

"Exactly. And it's where a certain _something_ was sealed in place." He shuffled across the room to doors set in the far wall; they were ornate and heavily carved with symbols. "This door was made in ancient times to seal the ruins. You've seen this seal before, haven't you?"

Yuri looked up at the symbols on the door, the same symbols he'd seen in the sub-hall shrine earlier that night and he looked at Roger with narrowed eyes.

"You really are a space alien aren't ya?" he said, and the room suddenly jerked, twisting and folding upon itself. Dizzy he fell to one knee, his eyes seeing row after row of crosses lining the long staircase that went up and up and up into the darkness of the cavern, leading up to a platform, another symbol filled circle, Albert Simon and…

"Koudelka…" Yuri whispered.

"I'm here," she said and touched his shoulder, bringing him back suddenly to the dark chamber beneath the crypt. "Are you all right Yuri; you seem distracted again."

Yuri, his eyes wide, rose to his feet and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to control the slight trembling he felt. "Yeah - just memories."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

A/N Nope, again I don't own them, but I wish I did, especially a certain leather-clad Harmonixer. (Yeah, right; me and everyone else!) This chapter is rated "R" for graphic violence, sexual content and just about everything else your momma told you not to read.

Koudelka and James both paused at the base of the stairs, looking with curiosity and horror at the cauldron and its grizzly contents. The tree grew from the vat itself, its beginnings lost in a primordial ooze of blood and tissue while its twisted and gnarled trunk rose through the ceiling. Yuri crossed the small space to the cauldron and looked within, sniffing and grinning.

"Is it soup yet?" he asked then regretted it as both Koudelka and James scowled at him.

"Cannot you take anything seriously, barbarian?" James retorted and then pushed Yuri aside to kneel at the side of the corpse. "Patrick, ah Patrick," he said sadly, then crossed himself and began to silently pray. Koudelka walked about the small room, poking into the dark recesses until she came to a cobweb-infested door.

"Yuri, look at this," she quietly called and Yuri joined her. She brushed webs and dust from the double doors, revealing carvings and runes.

"Those runes again," she said. "But these are older than anything Patrick would have carved.

"Yeah, back to the beginning of things," Yuri answered and Koudelka looked up at him.

"You know what's beyond here, don't you?" she asked.

Yuri shrugged. "I been there. But not yet. Don't worry – nothing to bother us this time around," he said quietly.

'This time…' Koudelka raised an eyebrow but, though her curiosity was aroused, she had a feeling if she asked, she still wouldn't understand. When she looked at him she could still perceive the vortex around him, as if time and space were spinning into and out of him; every action he made changed the vortex and she was concerned that anything she did would interfere with what he had to do. And the thought occurred to her that such interference could be fatal for her. Shuddering deep down, she turned back to the cauldron and sat down on the stone floor, content to wait for James.

Yuri stayed by the doors for a moment after Koudelka left and looked at them, wondering if they really did lead to the graveyard he remembered. Then she shook himself and joined Koudelka in waiting for James, flinging himself onto the stone floor and laying back, arms behind his head. James' muttered prayers stopped after a while and Yuri looked up to see a look of grim determination on the old priest's face.

"Hey, what are ya doing?" he asked and Koudelka sat up to look as well, but James did not answer. Instead, he rose from his knees and walked across the room to a recessed shelf where canisters of paraffin were lined up. He tried the first one but it was empty so he tried the next two; finding both carried half. He then opened the stoppers on both canisters and combined their contents, careful not to spill the flammable liquid.

"James, what do ya think yer doin'?" Yuri pursued, climbing to his feet and joining him.

"Not that it's any of your affair," he said testily, "I would never ask you to do this."

Yuri reached out and took the now filled canister of paraffin. "Like hell," he said.

"Yuri, do not interfere. As Patrick was responsible for all this, and as his friend, I am partially responsible, it falls to me to finish this. None of you need to die with me here."

"The hell you say," Yuri said, stepping back and keeping the canister from James.

"Damn it Yuri!" James growled and Yuri laughed, holding James off with one hand.

"Ah-ah priest, not in God's house."

"Shut up - I'm not asking you to do this," James replied.

"No, I'm helping. That's what I'm for -- _helping_, so shut up and let me do my job, eh?" Yuri retorted, the whole time keeping James back with one hand on his chest and the priest was fuming.

"James, you can't do it alone. We are all in this, and if Yuri wants to help, let him," Koudelka said from her place by the stairs.

James finally subsided and turned to Yuri. "Sorry. I – I guess I feel guilty about all of this," he said quietly.

"Yeah, we all carry our crosses," Yuri said. "Course, I gave mine to my wife an' I ain't seen it since…" he grinned.

James sighed. "Then we'll use the sacred relic of Saint Daniel. Are we all agreed?"

"You do the prayin' an' I'll do the burnin'," Yuri replied, holding up the paraffin can and jostling its contents slightly.

James winced. "You do realize that stuff is dangerous?"

Yuri smiled broadly. "Yup, but what the hell; you only live once," he said and began dribbling the fluid along the roots, following them upstairs to the sanctuary and sloshing the paraffin over the tangle of roots on the main floor before tossing the remaining contents onto the base of the tree climbing up to the choir loft. Finally, he returned to the basement beneath the crypt and nodded. "Ready for your holy magic, priest."

With a grimace, James returned to the cauldron with its tangle of roots and Patrick's mummy. He reached into his pack and carefully withdrew the wrapped relic he had obtained from Yuri earlier that night; the arm of Saint Daniel Scotius, gray and fragile with age, and missing fingers, yet its holy power and their dedicated prayers should release the hold the evil had placed on this monastery and allow them to… to what, he thought – banish the resurrected monstrosity that had become Elaine? To destroy every last vestige of the woman he loved? With a sharp shake of his head, James raised the arm over his head in offering.

"Are you all sure?" he asked and Koudelka and Yuri both nodded. "Very well then, let us proceed." Facing the cauldron, holy relic lifted high, he said his prayer, summoning the holy power of God and His angels and finishing with "Saint Daniel Scotius, protect us from these evil spirits and grant us inner strength, amen."

With that, James dropped the relic into the cauldron and watched as it slowly sank, bubbles forming around it as it slowly moved through the sludge that was inside the cauldron. Almost immediately afterwards more bubbles began to form, not just around the arm but in the rest of the liquid, frothing and spewing upward, churning the liquid and revealing its true nature as blood as it gushed upward and exploded out of the caldron. Intense light followed, white and cleansing in its intensity and the roots draping and crawling from the bowl began to writhe as if in pain, snapping and cracking in their movements and threatening James and Koudelka with bodily harm.

"Come on you two!" Yuri shouted from the stairs, claw already on his hands. As Koudelka ran past him, she handed him a lantern, already blazing with a candle's hot flame. "Thanks," he said and followed them up to the sanctuary. The once quiet centerpiece of the church was now alive with throbbing and shuddering plant roots, thorny protrusions thrusting and whipping at Koudelka and James as they emerged from the crypt. One huge root, its thorns longer than a man's arm, whipped at Koudelka nearly smashing her to the ground while another one gyrated wildly, smashing into the stained glass window sending rainbow shards scattering onto the floor and out onto the ground beyond.

"Go!" Koudelka shouted, pushing James ahead of her and she followed, fleeing the attacking roots. Behind her, she heard Yuri's thudding boots on the tile floor and knew he would be watching her back. "Hurry James, get outside," she called ahead. James was wasting no time, dodging and avoiding the whipping roots, ducking under one that threatened to decapitate him and leaping over another that swept the floor toward his legs. Finally, he reached the window, his boots crunching on the shattered glass and he climbed through, knocking loose more sharp edges in his haste. Koudelka was on his heels and she paused just outside to watch for Yuri.

He was coming, leaping over one root, punching at another, trying to get through the wildly gyrating mass of plants and thorns. He had nearly made the window when a root shot out, slamming him in the back and he lunged forward, the lantern flying free and skidding along the floor to the window. Koudelka bent down and picked it up, handing it to James, and then climbed back in to help Yuri. Yuri was climbing to his feet, several large thorns now firmly ensconced in his back - their needle sharp points stuck in the mesh of the armored vest.

"Yuri, come on," Koudelka called, offering her hand and the injured fighter stumbled the last few feet to the broken window, pushing himself and the gypsy woman through, and breaking even more glass as another waiving tentacle crashed into the glass behind him. James had now stepped forward over the two on the ground and, swung the lantern widely.

"Thou," he cried, "thou who were born and created out of dust, now go quietly and return to thy maker," he yelled and threw the lantern, sending it high into the sanctuary to plummet onto the paraffin oil soaked roots. Instantly they began to burn as the lantern shattered, sending little sparks throughout the writhing roots and spreading ever more quickly along the path of the oil. In another moment, the little fires had spread and met in one large explosion of flame the force of which blew out the rest of the glass and filled the sanctuary with smoke.

Yuri groaned, climbing to his feet. "Ouch ouch, damn these things hurt," he said and Koudelka pulled him away from the conflagration building in the sanctuary and pulled the thorns from his back; the tips were red with blood and Yuri gritted his teeth. But when Koudelka offered to heal him, he shook his head adamantly. "No, no; we don't have time. Catch me when we get above. We've got to hurry before he catches us up," he said and pointed to a nearby scaffold.

James and Koudelka followed his direction and saw a metal framework on the side of the church, climbing up the wall and stopping just below the railing at the choir loft. Several parts of it still had wooden slats for steps but the rest used metal and whatever came to hand; the entire structure looked like it would fall in a stiff wind but yet had stood the test of coastal storms for over five years. Koudelka ran ahead leading the way up the first flight of steps, her boots clacking on the metal steps. James went next followed by Yuri who kept looking back toward the sanctuary; somewhere in there… right after the explosion… they had to hurry. Yuri caught up to James and gave him a helping hand by pushing him along. James was so startled he didn't respond until they made the first landing, swatting the offensive had off his backside.

"I do **not** need your assistance, Yuri. Why don't you go first and pick off any monsters that might be waiting for us," he suggested.

Yuri squinted at the priest, unsure if James were serious. "You want me to go first?" he asked, then with a grin, "All right, but don't fall behind." And with that, Yuri took the lead, circling around the scaffolding and under a flying buttress, and crossing to the next set of stairs. These were mere metal slats lying across the scaffolding and he climbed up and turned to offer Koudelka a hand up, and then one for James. James hesitated a moment, his grip shaking and Yuri looked closely at the aging priest.

"You all right, James?" James nodded, one hand indicating the area beyond the scaffolding. Yuri looked up and smiled. "Yeah, great view." Below, the Irish Sea crashed and foamed, venting its fury on the cliff face. And in the east where the sun was now above the horizon lay the vast grassy plain with its tracery network of dirt roads and tracks looking barren and grey in the early morning light and, in the far distance, the darker shapes of farmhouses, but even squinting Yuri could not see Aberystwyth.

James glanced up but once, then with a shudder, climbed up onto the next scaffold and letting his eyes glance at the church; through an arched window he could see the flames below, their brilliant red-orange light casting dark shadows onto the outer wall and buttresses. Even with the early morning light, the outside of the church looked black.

"Come on James, move yer ass," Yuri rudely remarked as he pushed past. Koudelka had gone on ahead, climbing the scaffold to a stone ledge that completely encircled the dome of the church. She stepped onto the ledge and hesitated; ahead was a wooden deck and several plant tentacles, each looming in excess of ten feet tall, had broken their way free of the church, smashing through glass windows and now writhed and wriggled in the way – one carried the mummified remains of Patrick Heyworth.

"James, Yuri – hurry!" she called and began immediately to summon her flare magic. Yuri and James both thudded up the remaining scaffold stairs and James skidded to a halt at her side, eyes wide at his friend's remains but, with a quick sign of the cross, he too began to mutter a spell. Yuri didn't stop his forward momentum, instead crashing into the nearest root-like tentacle, getting scratched by the sharp thorns but managing to push it back a few feet to give the others room to move. He then moved out of the way as Koudelka shouted a warning, and watched in awe as her magic formed over the writhing plant and exploded into a ball of searing flames.

"Shit, she's gettin' strong," he muttered.

Koudelka watched and then stamped her foot as the flames subsided and showed the tentacle unharmed. If fire was not its vulnerability then something else would have to be. She waited to watch James who was finishing his own summons; a swirl of cold blue ice gathered above them and suddenly shattered, sending down icy shards onto the plant. It ceased its movements for a moment, shuddering before moving closer again.

"Yuri," she called, "keep the other one busy while James and I take care of this one."

With a nod, Yuri leapt to his feet and sprinted around the tentacle, avoiding another whipping backlash and confronted the mummy carrying menace. He desperately wished he dared use a fusion and blast the stupid things to oblivion, but three things stopped him: their supplies of listel were limited and he knew the others would need it too, and coming up from below was himself, looking for a fight, and waiting above was Elaine; if he used his fusions now, before he really needed to, then they could end up in dire straits later on. Oddly, he remembered clearly the battle against Elaine at the top of the tower; the spire's broken and wasted rubble lying in piles on the stone roof, the bells rolling and crashing down the side of the building and into the sea, and Koudelka's mangled body… no, he shook his head, he wasn't going to dwell on that part. He knew he caused it; he knew he could fix it. The closer he got to the actual event, the more clear became his purpose; he didn't remember much else – foggy snippets of life as he had known it, or life as he ended up knowing it without Koudelka's guiding voice, or the saving graces of that pretty blonde girl in China.

He shuddered, suddenly remembering the pretty blonde's face, sharp and clear as if she stood before him, and a world of warmth and hurt flooded through him in that remembering. 'It's for her I do this; for me and for her and for …' The momentary distraction nearly cost him as the thorn-bearing, mummy-carrying tentacle swung around and slammed into him, pounding him to the wooden platform surrounding the scaffolding on the dome. He went down face first, splinters bruising his cheek and large thorns once again puncturing his back. And his back was starting to hurt now, throbbing with the pain of poison from the thorns. He gritted his teeth and rolled, breaking off the thorns on the wooden deck.

"God damn," he cursed and then jumped back to his feet, the effort to do so making him see sparkles in his eyes. "Shit," he muttered and quickly patted at his pockets, pulling out a handful of herbs; they were crushed, broken, and unidentifiable.

"Damn, which one is the antidote?" his guts were beginning to churn and he muttered beneath his breath as he took a handful of whatever was there and crammed it into his mouth and chewed. The tangy, earthy flavors melded together into a mulch in his mouth and he wished for water to wash it down with but he could feel the tell-tale tingle of the antidote working, and wondered what else he had taken with it. Shrugging to loosen his shoulders, he ducked to avoid another swing of the thorny vine and then moved in to striking distance. He could hear Koudelka's icy attack land on the tentacle behind him, the floorboards shaking and rattling with the impact and he quietly hoped the floor would hold.

He watched the waiving arm of the tentacle, this one standing well over twelve feet tall and with two appendages – one holding the mummy and one free to do damage. With a grin he leapt forward, slicing down the nearest tentacle with his claws, leaving a seeping score along its length but little damage. He spun around to hit it with his boot heel only to see the score crusting over with sap, healing itself.

"Damn shit," he growled. Then, with sudden vicious inspiration, he leapt at the tentacle, grabbing the desiccated mummy and the securing tentacle and pulled; slowly the limb released the mummy and Yuri, grinning idiotically, swung the mummy like a brittle battering ram, slamming it into the tentacle. The head and shoulders shattered in powdery dust and bone fragments and he ducked as the tentacle flailed at him, and then turned and, using the legs and back of the corpse, slammed into the tentacle again.

"Die damn it, just fucking die!"

The thing moved away, leaving a trail of slime, broken thorns and bone fragments, and Yuri pursued. He swung back the corpse - now little more than one leg and part of the backbone – preparing to use what was left in a powerhouse slam, but instead met the whipping tentacle head on. Surprise and pain had him screaming as the tentacle slammed into him, puncturing him with a half dozen long thorns, and sending him flat to the platform, head reeling.

Yuri struggled to sit up, his chest flaming in pain with the poisonous tines piercing his armor and the flesh beneath. He tried to brush them aside only to find them securely stuck and each movement sending more pain into his chest.

"God damn," he muttered and then winced. Behind him, he heard the explosion of ice and knew that Koudelka and James had finished off their enemy, but he had made little progress except to get hurt. He tried to look back but the tentacle had moved closer during his self-inspection and it was swinging at him again. He lay back and rolled away, barely missing being flattened by the thorny menace.

"I could use some help here," he said through grinding teeth and then he felt James helping him stand, his arms supporting the injured fighter and pulling him away from the continuing battle. Koudelka had moved up and was summoning her magic again, a quick burst of ice shards pummeling down onto the waiving tentacle and Yuri groaned.

"Poison?" James asked and Yuri nodded.

"Yeah, damned shit hurts like fire," he said and James set him down and reached into his own pack, pulling out a small handful of antidote.

"There's not much but this should begin to help. We need to get you healed or to a fountain," James said looking around. "I don't think we can make it back to the fonts below.

Yuri shook his head. "No, no we can't. We'd never get through the fire or…" or me coming up the stairs, he thought and chewed the antidote's leaves, their bitter flavor fresher than the crumbled jumble of herbs he had tried before. His chest felt the tingle of relief, but the poisonous thorns were still stuck in the armor and his chest and they burned like fire. "Can we get these out, James?"

The priest turned his attention back to Yuri, who had slid down and was now lying at his feet, and nodded. He knelt and, taking hold of one of the thorns, pulled, but the barbs did not release and only caused Yuri more pain with the pulled barbs.

"It's stuck," he said. "Best take off the armor too," and he quickly began pulling at the vest's lacings, freeing one side to expose Yuri's punctured chest.

"Ah God that hurts," the fusionist moaned.

"Don't be such a baby," James admonished and was rewarded with a scowl followed by a crooked smile.

"I knew I liked ya James," he said and then grit his teeth as James tackled the thorns once more, pulling them out one by one with bits of muscle and flesh attached and Yuri bled profusely from the wounds. "Ah damn, damn I'm a fucking pin cushion," he cursed.

James pursed his lips once the last thorn was removed. "Let me heal you," he said and, placing his hands over Yuri's chest, closed his eyes in prayer. A moment only, and a flickering green light enveloped his hands, moving down from the fingers and cascading over Yuri's body. The puncture wounds ceased their bleeding, pink flesh forming and joining into new skin on both his back and chest and Yuri sighed in pleasure at the cessation of pain.

"God that feels good," he said with a sigh. "Thanks, priest."

James opened aging and tired eyes and looked at Yuri. "You're welcome, thief."

Behind them Koudelka was working her magic, a crackling of lightening as her wind magic formed a tornado above the tentacle before it descended in a black cloud and spun the tentacle around in a vortex of wind. The wind twisted the tentacle, whipping it around like ribbon in the wind, and peeling off its bark and thorns. It moved back once the spell had dissipated and Koudelka smiled, summoning her tornado winds again.

James and Yuri looked up at the crash of lightening and Yuri gave James a little shove. "Go on, I'll watch yer back. Help her," he said and James went off, beginning his wind summons before taking a half dozen steps. Yuri moved back, taking a look down the scaffolding, seeing movement below and quietly cursing. 'They better hurry,' he thought and then cringed when a double explosion of thunder ripped through the air behind him. Turning back, he saw both James' and Koudelka's tornado magicks land at the same time and the tentacle shred into slivers of plant-flesh and dissipate on the wind.

"Good," he shouted at them and trotted to join them. "Let's get going," he said as he tied up the loose laces of his armor

James reached into his pack and withdrew a small bottle of listel, offering it to Koudelka. "What is your hurry Yuri?"

"We've got to keep going," he said and cast a quick look behind him toward the lower scaffolding. "We got to keep ahead of him."

"That's all right James. Let's just go," Koudelka said and, waiving off the listel, followed the curve of the dome to another set of planks; she paused just long enough to look up at the dome and then began to climb. Half way up she stopped and waived down to Yuri who was bringing up the rear. "Yuri, there's a font here in the outer wall; come up here."

Yuri climbed up past James and reached the small landing at the font; the stairs twisted around again, climbed up to the side of the dome, and ended at a broken window, the rose cross above it catching the early sunlight and glowing with a holy light. The font was little more than a basin for rainwater, but it was clean and clear and when Yuri dipped a hand in to take a drink, it was briskly cold. James climbed up behind him and offered a prayer over the font and Yuri could swear he saw a little glow reflected in the water's surface.

'Ah shit, now I'm seein' things,' he thought and drank the cold water. Koudelka took a double handful and dribbled it on his neck, letting it slide down inside his armored vest to gently bathe the newly healed skin beneath. Then she took a handkerchief from her pouch and dipped it in the font, thoroughly wetting it before taking Yuri by his chin and washing his face.

"You are a mess, young man," she said with a smile and Yuri grinned up at her, his heart beating fast in his chest.

"Yeah, well, it happens sometimes," he said and caught her wrist in his and kissed her upturned palm. "I hope we… I wish we had time right now for me to tell you - things…" Koudelka caressed his cheek and moved back, folding the kerchief and putting it back in her pack.

"Later; we'll have time later," she said and when James, who had filled his cup at the font offered her a drink, she accepted with a sigh. "It's almost done. Whatever we find up here…"

"I have seen more death and evil here tonight," James said, "than in all my years as a priest. May God forgive me," he said quietly and climbed past Koudelka, taking the steps slowly, not noticing the expanse of the valley below, not noticing the full moon as it set in the west, her swollen body crimson with the rising sun.

"Yeah, me too; I think I need it," Yuri said and rose to follow the priest, taking Koudelka's hand in his as he did so. Together they climbed the last steps to the fourth floor of the church and stepped inside.

The fourth floor of the church was the choir loft that they had seen from below, the tree of life having burst through the stones of the floor and sending tendrils around the curvature of the room. Looking below James could see the flames had charred much of the root structure and was working its way to the pulpit and organ. Black smoke billowed from below and a stench rose to the rafters like a prayer; James didn't want to think about what kind of prayer was going up to heaven. Instead, he looked at the center of the choir; the plant had brought forth one huge blossom, a pale shade of pink and shaped like a tulip. While he watched Koudelka and Yuri climbed in the window and joined him, a look of amazement on the young thief's face and Koudelka – the gypsy looked suspicious. Her eyes suddenly focused entirely on the plant, a frown creasing her brow and she dropped Yuri's hand, taking a few steps closer. And the flower began to vibrate, at first just slightly, then faster as if in response to their presence in the choir loft.

Koudelka felt a presence in the flower, something both alive and evil and her heart began to pound hard in her chest. She hesitated, pausing half way between the broken window and the flower, her nerves jangling. She had never felt such alarm before, not when fighting the other monsters of this place, nor when channeling the ghosts of the dead. This was intense, frightening, and extremely dangerous. Finally the flower petals began to open, a clear mucus-like fluid seeping out as the petals gently fell back revealing life within. That life was female, short blonde hair, pale skin with tattooing on her torso: an odd marking of circles and lines that reminded Koudelka of the drawings she had seen from that Jewish book of mysticism.

"Oh Patrick, Patrick," James breathed. "What heinous magic did you do?"

The question was moot; the woman in the flower was on her knees, head down, hands to the side, and when finally the last petal fell back she raised her blonde head up and, with a look of astonishment, opened her mouth as if to speak.

Suddenly Koudelka jumped back, her hand sliding quickly into her pouch and pulling out her talisman, the one given her by Madame Blavatsky when she left her teacher to begin her travels – its center a bit of crystal woven about with wood and leather into a cross shape. Koudelka whipped this talisman up and held it before her, the crystal catching the light from the broken window and shattering it into rainbow hews. At the same time the woman in the flower screamed, a sound that pierced their minds and hearts with knifing pain. Both Yuri and James clapped their hands to their ears, grimacing and Koudelka cried out. The sound did not stop, even when the flower woman took a breath; instead, a thick blue-white crystalline mist seemed to form about her, and then was spewed toward the three with the continued scream.

The mist rocketed toward them and struck the talisman, a field of energy suddenly forming and shielding them as the mist broke and shattered around them. Yuri coughed, waving one hand in front of his face.

"God damn - Poison gas."

Almost in response to his remark the monster that was Elaine rose to her feet and leapt straight up, slamming into the curved ceiling, her feet and hands gaining entry and gripping the plaster. It was then Yuri noticed something else odd about her.

"Shit! She's all twisty like," and he was right; her lower body, legs and feet were backward to the rest of her, letting her knees bend behind her. And she was quick as feet and hands pounded their way into the plaster as she ran across the roof. "Somebody stop her," he shouted and almost immediately shots were fired, James dropping in another cartridge into the shotgun and firing again while Koudelka fumbled for the pistol. Impatient Yuri slid to her side, shaking off the claws from one hand and forcing open the pouch, pulling out the double action pistol and, aiming in the general direction of the moving Elaine, fired repeatedly. The bullets riddled the roof, sending down a rain of plaster and paint and the monster woman screeched in frustration, stopping, moving again, zigging left, then right in an attempt to avoid Yuri's rapid fire. But it was the next set of shotgun shells that brought her down from the ceiling with a splat; heels over head she rolled across the floor, coming to a stop mere yards from James. Yuri, still holding the now empty pistol, waived it at the corpse.

"Is she dead yet?"

With a snort, Koudelka rose and snatched her gun from Yuri's hands, and approached the recumbent body, pistol at the ready.

"Um, Koudelka, there's no…" Yuri didn't finish his statement for the body suddenly quivered and moved, legs suddenly jutting sideways, feet walking to raise her rear end up, and then her arms planting themselves and lifting her up on all fours; and in another second she was moving, rapidly scuttling across the floor.

"Whoa!" Yuri shouted, suddenly galvanized into action. In one stride he was beside Koudelka, grabbing her elbow and spinning her around, pushing her toward the staircase; a narrow winding stone stair spiraled up to the roof and the three of them were now running as fast as they could up the small steps. Looking back over his shoulder, Yuri could see through a carved iron grate that opened on one side of the stairwell, the view showing the choir below, and he could see the movement of the monster beneath them.

"Hurry up you two, she's right behind us," he called and gave James, who was directly ahead of him, a little push. They climbed the tight spiral and barely made the first landing on the next floor when the scuttling monster that was Elaine caught up to them. Suddenly there was battle in the narrow confines, Elaine blocking their retreat and little room to move.

Elaine remained on all fours, her head bobbing up and down slightly as she seemed to be concentrating on something, and Yuri gestured toward Koudelka.

"You summon, I'll try to distract her and whatever you do, don't hit me," he said and jumped at Elaine. His claws were ready and he punched down with one fist, hitting her head and scoring a deep cut on the back of her blonde head; the skull dented, flesh tearing and blood seeping out, but even as he swung a leg in a round house kick, he saw the wound beginning to heal, a clear sticky sap forming new skin. His boot slammed into the side of her face, smashing her delicate features and bruising and bloodying her, but again she was healing even as he stepped back to assess the damage.

"Shit! She heals faster than I can hurt her," he called back and then leapt out of the way as Koudelka signaled him. Her flare magic broke over Elaine's blonde head and sizzled around her and the monster screamed in pain and scuttled quickly back a few steps. She remained on hands and feet, her back arched and rounded, and her head dropped oddly, and then she began to move, concentrating on summoning some form of magic even as Koudelka moved back to let James use his summoned ice barrage. Yuri watched the movements, the head swinging slightly, her lower extremities rising and falling, rising again with a thrusting motion, and he snorted; it reminded him graphically of something.

"Oh for god's sake, she wants sex!" he said with a laugh and Koudelka looked startled, realizing what he meant as James' magic broke over the wiggling woman. "Oh baby, she's hot," Yuri said, laughing.

Koudelka turned to say something but never got the chance. The wiggling monstrosity that was Elaine suddenly arched her back, throwing her head up and opening wide her mouth, let out a piercing scream. Black and purple energy suddenly boiled out from her body, leaving every cavity and crevice, and slamming across the narrow stairs to hit first James, who had barely finished his summons and who now found himself lying on the stairs gasping for breath, and then Koudelka and Yuri. The force of the dark energy pushed them to their knees and Koudelka moaned poison washing over her and coursing through her slight frame like a river. Yuri too felt the poisons and crawled over to Koudelka, pulling her onto his knees as he searched in her pouch. Finding the antidotes she had saved he gave her one, pushing the herb between her lips. He set her down then and went to James, his own insides starting to feel the effects of the poisonous energy.

"Come on James, I need yer magic here," he said as he pushed the leaves between James' parted lips, forcing his jaw to grind them up. "I can't stop that creature on my own."

James nodded, chewing the antidote, then, "Why not use your magic?" he asked quietly.

"Cuz I'm gonna need it a lot sooner than now," Yuri said then shook his head. "Anyway, just get up and kill that bitch or do I have to fuck her to death first."

James shook off Yuri's helping hand, his frown growing as he climbed shakily to his feet. "You'd have sex with a corpse?" James said, then he glanced up at Elaine and shuddered; she was moving in an obscene fashion and, appalled, James crossed himself and began to summon again.

"I'd hump her if it would kill her," Yuri replied. "Stick to fire James, I think she hates that," Yuri said and he moved back to check on Koudelka. She was shaking off the effects of the poison and Yuri helped her to her feet. "I think she hated that fire stuff, Koudelka. Do it again. I'll keep you two healthy," he said and showed the handful of herbs and medicines he'd taken from her pouch.

"All right," Koudelka said, a bit confused. She blinked, glancing toward James, then moved a little forward, summoning her flare magic again. Yuri hovered between them, watching as Elaine wiggled and gyrated on the stairs just below them. She was concentrating on magic again, and Yuri hoped that Koudelka and James could get in another good shot before she struck. He felt useless against this creature, not having a sword that could do damage against her and not being any help with the magic. Clenching his jaw, he ground his teeth in frustration.

'Yuri, you son of a bitch, I'm gonna kill you fer gettin' me inta this mess,' he thought.

Head down like a broken doll, Elaine was moving erratically, the movements drawing a rude grin from the young harmonixer; he laughed softly to himself… she does look like she is having one hell of a lay, he thought. Next to him, Koudelka finished her summons, bright flare magic exploding like a bomb over Elaine's warped and twisted body, and she writhed now in pain, her own magic forgotten in the blistering heat that attacked her. And no sooner had the fire magic ebbed, and then James concluded his summons as well, and put the finish on her. Elaine collapsed to one knee, her bruised and blemished countenance staring wide eyed at James for a moment before collapsing onto the stairs.

Yuri grabbed Koudelka by the elbow and swung her around, giving her a push. "No time to dawdle kids, she'll be back for more. Come on, let's go," he said. Koudelka nodded even as she sprinted the next few turns of the staircase and James followed closely behind. Yuri still brought up the rear, watching for both the return of the flower child Elaine and himself coming up from the choir below. He knew Elaine would come again; Koudelka had told him the story last year and he knew she would come healed and ready for battle.

"Damn I wish I had that stupid sword… Sacnoth," he muttered, remembering the huge magical broadsword he had the first time he'd been this way; but that was back with Roger, in the house they had built and he wouldn't see it again. The sword Koudelka had given him, Life-Drinker she had called it, was lost somewhere below, knocked who knew where when he was dodging plant tentacles. "God damn, why is it never easy?"

As if on cue, the never easy that was Elaine caught up to them, at the curve to the sixth floor landing and she was out for blood. She slammed into Yuri, pushing him to his knees. He kicked out with one foot, connecting with her face and crushing her nose, blackish blood spurting out and dribbling down her pale face. He followed through with the kick, spinning around on the stairs and punching with his clawed fist and crushing through her skull, blood and brains splattering over them both and her eyeball bounced out onto the floor and rolled over the edge of the safety grill. But the damage was not permanent for even as Yuri withdrew his fist covered in blood, the injury was already beginning to heal, and in frustration he pulled back and punched again, his arm like a piston as it pounded into Elaine's head, cracking the skull further and shattering bone and tissue.

Elaine wailed in agony, pulling back from Yuri and then lurching forward again, head butting him in the groin, and forcing him to his knees. She scuttled away then and concentrated on her dark poisonous magicks, her body thrusting and lurching as she did so. Yuri, on one knee where she had left him, looked back at James and Koudelka, but the few seconds this had taken were not enough – he would have to buy them more time and prevent Elaine from spewing her black poisons. With a shake of his shaggy head and ignoring the throb between his legs, he climbed to his feet and sprinted to the wiggling menace that was Elaine. She tried to shuffle away but he leapt, his hand on her shoulder, and straddled her, her thrusting and undulating nether regions between his legs. He grabbed a handful of her blood-streaked blonde hair and pulled, forcing her head back; her one eye bulged and her lips opened revealing sharp white teeth.

"You want a piece of me, bitch?" he said and wrapped his other arm beneath her, pulling her back and up to his chest, his hand gripping one breast. "You wanna fuck with me, do ya?" He let go her hair and rammed his left hand into the side of her head, continuing to hold her bucking body between his legs as he pounded at her head and neck. The earlier damage was already partially repaired save for the missing eye, the empty socket staring up at Yuri as he gripped her tighter and forced her to the ground, one knee pushing in on her back. Face down on the stairs, Elaine struggled to free herself but Yuri would have none of it. He twisted his right hand, grinding the flesh of her breast in his fist, nearly twisting it off.

"How do you like that, eh bitch? Feel good? You like it rough?" he growled and then used the grip on her breast to help him flip her over, slamming her twisted back onto the stones and he sat on her, pinning her to the ground. "Oh yeah," he said with a feral grin, his eyes bright and nearly crimson. "I'm gonna enjoy this," he said. His right hand still pinning her down by her breast he then rammed his left into her lower body, sharp claws ripping and tearing tender flesh before Yuri pulled it free with a twist. "See how you like it, bitch," he growled.

Elaine, her one eye staring at him vacantly, opened her mouth and screamed, an ear-piercing shriek that accompanied a thrust of her power to match the thrust of her body beneath him and Yuri found himself coughing and choking on a face full of dark, poisonous magic.

"_Yuri_!"

Behind him Koudelka called, her spell forming over his head and, poison wracking him, he rolled off Elaine, leaving her heaving form to huddle against the stairwell wall. Fire exploded behind him, the heat burning his back and sweat instantly poured from him; his arms over his head he held his breath, hoping he could survive the next few seconds – he had to, he had to live through this, he had to save Koudelka and…

His ears were ringing and he felt fullness in his head, realizing he couldn't hear. Slowly he dragged himself up and staggered back toward Koudelka who was pulling not only antidotes but a healing potion from her pouch.

"You stupid fool," she exclaimed but Yuri shook his head, falling to his knees at her feet and rolling over onto his back, pain washing over him like her fire magic. She knelt and stuffed the herbs into his mouth, forcing him to chew them before pulling the stopper from potion bottle. "You are so damned reckless!"

Yuri chewed the herbs and took the bottle from Koudelka, tossing back the flavorful vintage – an herbal mix bottled in a dark wine. He licked his lips and felt the tingle as the medicines began to work, his ears ringing and his heart beating fast and strong.

"I'll live, I think," he said and waived with the hand holding the small bottle. "Better kill the bitch, Koudelka," he said and then sighed, closing his eyes. "I'll be a minute. I'm okay."

Koudelka touched his shoulder before rising to summon again; a barrage of ice broke over Elaine as she watched and she smiled, realizing that ice would work better this time. 'Fine,' she thought. 'Ice it is,' and she called on her magicks. James took a step back, shaking his head as Koudelka went back to work. He glanced at Yuri before sighing and beginning again the summons for his ice magic.

Yuri lay on his back for a moment, the sound of battle coming slowly back to his ringing ears. He heard the loud crash as Koudelka's ice barrage landed and he rolled onto his elbow to survey the damage. Elaine was obviously weakening; she was on her hands and feet again, but her body was moving rapidly, her pelvis thrusting and her head swinging back and forth in a mindless motion. Yuri smiled, chuckling aloud.

"Oh yeah, she's got it now; she's coming, she's coming," Yuri laughed and fell back again, grinning like a fool as James' attack landed and Elaine's high pitched screech answered him.

Koudelka squatted at his shoulder and tapped the top of his head.

"Are you all right, Yuri?"

Still grinning, Yuri opened crimson-flecked eyes and stared up at Koudelka. He reached up with one hand and took her own, caressing it with his thumb.

"I'm okay, are you?" And when Koudelka nodded, he sighed. "Good." He took a deep breath and leapt to his feet, catching his balance as the world spun on its axis for a moment. He looked back at the lump that was Elaine and then nodded toward the stairs. "We better get going." He took Koudelka's elbow and hurried her along a few paces behind James. When they reached the last turn of the stairwell, he paused.

"James, Koudelka, listen up," he said and pulled Koudelka around to face him. "When we get up there… she's gonna come back ya understand?" he looked up at James who merely frowned.

"How do you know that?"

"Well she has returned twice now, James," Koudelka stated.

"Yeah, and she's gonna come back loaded for war. Ya gotta be ready. An' not only that –" he looked down at Koudelka and, still holding her elbow, pulled her close into an embrace. "I love you Koudelka, I want you to know that," he said and gave her a quick kiss. "I may not remember who I am or what I did, or what I'm supposed to do… but I promise you, you will come out of this alive. Elaine is gonna come up over the side, James," he said looking up at the priest again. "She's gonna come up and then lightening will strike. The bell tower will crumble; you gotta get out of the way – both of you, ya understand? You get Koudelka outta the way," he finished and James, looking down at the fighter, could see the glint of intense conviction in his eyes. James frowned, rubbing the back of his neck briefly before nodding.

"Yes, I understand. But what about you?"

Yuri sighed. "I'll be there; but I'm gonna be busy. You gotta be ready now; Elaine will come up and then there's gonna be one hellava fight. And I've gotta stop… well, I've got to stop what happened before."

Koudelka gripped his hand, holding it tightly. "Yuri, what are you going to do?"

Looking down at the gypsy woman, Yuri smiled. "What I have to. Let's go," and he thrust his chin in the direction of the rooftop.

They continued to climb, making the final turn of the stairs up to the roof. The narrow stairwell widened and opened up onto the stone of the bell tower; above them, the steeple rose like a black spear against the early morning sky, the six lower bells waiving gently in the morning wind off the coast. James and Koudelka took cautious steps around the opening for the bell-ropes and looked around. The top floor of the bell tower was open to the air, the steeple above them; and around the outer edge, was a stone wall about three feet tall and a foot thick, crenellated like a castle keep and pitted and cracked with age. The sea winds from the coast had freshened with the morning light and a few heavy grey clouds scudded across the sky, shredding and tearing, threatening with rain. In the east, the sun was above the horizon, a sharp lance of yellow light, but not yet strong enough to do more than brighten the local sky; the mists of the night before had left damp on everything and the stones under foot were slick with moisture –footing would be precarious. James looked over to the stairwell when Yuri did not join them and so it was he who first saw Elaine as she crawled over the crenellations to the roof. She looked battered and bruised, but no less dangerous and James called out a warning as she paused on the stone wall.

Suddenly she shuddered, her shoulders arching and her lower body growing odd rings like a cocoon; her arms elongated and her fingers grew claws. From her back sprung six ringed and ridged legs, which quickly articulated and lifted her body from the stones. Bent nearly double, her back now grew like a thorax, joining with her legs to form an elongated abdomen, her chest and human arms left to dangle beneath the new insectoid body. From her human head sprang a hood that was scaled and armored and two vestigial wings fluttered behind her. Raising herself up on her six legs, she surveyed the bell tower and screamed.

Yuri was standing on the last steps of the stairwell, keeping a close eye on the shadows below; he knew he was there, running up the spiral stairs, making note of the combats that had occurred. He knew he would be tired from his earlier combat on the inner grounds and against the gargoyle, and he knew his own magical energies would be depleted. He remembered James giving him listel for recovery and he knew that without that recovery, he would be a lot easier to kill. For Yuri knew in his heart this would be a combat to the death, he himself would not stand for interference if it meant saving a life, and he knew he was under the impression the people here needed him. He also knew he was being reckless. With a shrug, he turned and climbed the last steps as Elaine climbed over the wall.

"Any second now," he muttered, adjusting his claws and rotating his shoulders. And in the next second, the monster raised her head, screaming to the cloudy heavens and the thumping sound of boots on stone caught his attention, and then a boom as lightening stuck the bell tower and all hell broke loose.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

A/N: Don't own Shadow Hearts or Koudelka. This chapter rated "M" for graphic violence, sexual content, yadda yadda yadda. There may be some confusion here, with TWO Yuri's, but please be patient. If you read it carefully you'll know which Yuri is which.

"Any second now," he muttered, adjusting his claws and rotating his shoulders. And in the next second, the monster raised her head, screaming to the cloudy heavens and the thumping sound of boots on stone caught his attention, and then a boom as lightening stuck the bell tower and all hell broke loose.

Yuri saw the shadow from below moving up the stairs quickly, head up, and not expecting trouble. Two seconds later, he was leaping down onto the unsuspecting harmonixer. His boots hit the other Yuri in the face, toppling him back down the stairs to the previous landing, tumbling backwards and with a look of utter surprise on his face.

"What the fuck?" the other one growled when he hit the landing, rolling to a sudden stop against the iron grating. He leapt to his feet just in time to see himself leaping from the bottom steps and slamming into him.

Yuri's leap took him to his earlier self's chest, slamming them both back against the wall. The jarring impact stunned the man beneath him, giving Yuri a chance to get to his feet and pull the other Yuri up by his collar. He was pulling back his fist for a punch to the head when his earlier self suddenly scissored his legs, knocking Yuri back and tumbling him down the stairs, a handful of shirt and trench coat in his hand.

"Who the fuck do you think you are," demanded the other Yuri and he dove down the stairs to land hard next to him, his foot planted firmly on Yuri's chest. "Hey, you look like me," he suddenly realized, surprise warring with anger on his mixed features.

Yuri grabbed the leg and twisted, sending the other Yuri to the floor and he scrambled to his knees, following through with a punch to the head, his claws raking along the other Yuri's face and slicing his cheek; thick red blood oozed out and washed his face and he shook his shoulders trying to break free of Yuri's restraining arm and legs which were pinning him down. The two struggled together, arms locked and legs trying to trip or twist the other and the two rolled down another curve of the stairs, bumping and bouncing until they hit the next landing. Yuri found himself on the bottom with an infuriated other-self slamming a knee into his groin and a leather-clad fist wrapping around his throat.

'Forgot I don't fight fair,' he thought and grabbed the offending arm, trying to dislodge it. He could see his other self's eyes burning red and renewed his efforts to pull free, twisting and pushing at the arm; but his lungs were beginning to burn without air and the hand pressed down inexorably and he began to see sparks as his vision receded beneath his other half's firm grip. Yuri tried kicking out, twisting his legs to catch the other but he was unable to even graze him, and that knee came down again in his unprotected groin and he felt moist and knew he was now injured there too and suddenly he knew that he had underestimated himself.

Yuri had no idea who this guy was that had jumped down on him, curiosity wanting him to ask, but survival telling him to kill the bastard first and worry about why later. He felt disconcerted with his strong right hand choking the breath out of – what looked like _him..._ his own face staring back at him – and he forced his knee again into the groin of the man beneath him, causing more pain and, he hoped, damage. This guy fought dirty, just like him. He could hear the struggles above and wondered what was going on, suspecting he knew since Koudelka herself had told him the story just last year; but if Koudelka was there, and James and Halley's dad Edward, then who the hell was this guy struggling beneath him?

Yuri pushed harder on the man's neck, deciding then and there he was going to finish this quickly: he fused.

Suddenly Yuri found himself staring up at Inferno, his own fire class fusion soul. Now this was fucking weird, he thought. The man's fist, already choking him to death was suddenly strong enough to tear his head from his shoulders. As the spots exploded in his eyes, he knew that the gloves were off on this fight. There was one recourse left for him and that was to answer fusion with fusion. But he wasn't going to get into a punching match with Inferno. Nope, this time it was war. Reaching inside himself, he began to fuse only to find his power fading, his mind ragged along the edges and his last conscious thought was how he could have been so stupid.

Inferno shook the rag doll of a man at his feet and made sure he was unconscious. Tentatively he thought of killing him but instead tossed him further down the stairs, his body making thudding sounds as it bounced on the stone stairs before coming to a sliding stop on the floor below. With a black-lipped grin, he turned and pounded up the stairs to the roof.

The lightening had stuck the bell tower and the stone and metal structure began to crumble and then fall, crashing down onto the tower floor. The bells chimed and boomed, rolling over the side of the tower and crashing to the churchyard below. Without thinking, James grabbed Koudelka's arm and pulled her away, jumping out of the way of falling brick and metal to huddle against the crenellations. They both covered their heads and waited for the destruction to abate before looking up to survey the damage. The steeple was gone, only the lower structure still stood, striking upward into the sky like accusing fingers; the struts holding the bells were bent and broken, some having fallen to the floor, others had joined the bells over the side of the building. And standing amidst the ruin, her head held high and her wings fluttering in nervous anxiety, was Elaine, fully transformed into the embodiment of their nightmares. James rose to his feet, his hands shaking and his stomach churning: this was Elaine, his one-time love, the woman he gave up everything for… this monster. How could it have gone so wrong?

Koudelka checked her pack and then loaded her gun; there was little either of them had that could really hurt the monster, but perhaps they could get lucky. If they could use bullets and magic, and if Yuri would hurry… She stepped up to James who had approached the insect-like woman, his eyes misting with emotions. He too had loaded his rifle but seemed unwilling to begin battling his former love.

"James, she's not human anymore; she's only a monster," Koudelka said and James nodded.

"I know," he replied, his voice more of a rasping whisper than its usual robust self. Elaine moved, four of her legs carrying her across the debris-scattered roof and bringing her within six feet of two waiting humans. There was a chittering sound coming from her, and both James and Koudelka looked at her with trepidation and Koudelka began to summon her magic. Nor did they have long to wait for Elaine to act as the frantic movement of her wings stopped with a snap and an explosion of dark energy blossomed beneath her, washing out from her belly like a black tide and sweeping over everything in its path. James went down, knocked to his knees, gasping and shuddering, his breath torn from his lungs and toxins running through his body like water. He fumbled with his pack, trying to reach the antidotes and his shaking fingers grasped the leaves and brought one to his lips. Koudelka too was on her knees, but she still she summoned, her face a mask of concentration.

When her flare magic finally broke over Elaine, it was with relief that Koudelka hung her head, taking the antidote James offered.

"Where the hell is Yuri?" she growled deep in her throat, the pain of the toxins making her jaw clench tight.

"I don't know. I saw him go downstairs just as Elaine came up the outer wall."

"I wish he would hurry," she said and took the antidote, chewing on the leaves and slowly climbing to her feet. "All right, let's do that again, James. She didn't seem to like the fire," she said and James nodded. The flare magic had washed over Elaine and the insectoid female had cringed in pain, her wings fluttering, and her features made a voice-less screech. Koudelka quickly summoned.

Inferno clambered up the last set of stairs to the rooftop and the crumbled bell tower. He paused on the top step, looking around, his dark eyes taking in the crushed and broken masonry, the giant insect and two humans struggling against it; then he blinked. One of the humans was a priest, but the other… Startled, he found himself nearly blinded by the sudden flare of the woman's magic as it burst over the monster. Blinking several times, Inferno climbed the last step and stomped his way toward the monster.

Elaine had hunkered down at the second fiery flare and when the flames had washed away, she rose on her back legs and slammed her front legs into Koudelka and James, slamming them to the stones, one sharp razor claw piercing Koudelka's leg and pinning her to the stones. Koudelka screamed in pain and tried to pull her leg free from the pinning claw. But the monster was too big and too strong.

Behind her, Inferno was stomping across the roof, pausing just long enough to grab a metal strut from a pile of debris. Swinging it in his hand, he then leapt up and over the fallen woman, landing in front of the giant insect and bringing the pipe down hard on her head. There was the crunch of exoskeleton before Elaine swung around and snapped a foreleg at Inferno, knocking him aside. He landed nearly on top of Koudelka and James who were both scrambling away from the flying fusion monster.

"Yuri, watch out!" James shouted and he pulled Koudelka away as the giant fire fusion thudded to the stone floor. The shock of hitting the hard stone left Inferno lying on the floor for a moment, then as he climbed to his feet, he released the fusion, Yuri falling to one knee again.

"Koudelka? Yer Koudelka… I'd know you anywhere," the young fighter said between deep breaths. "I don't suppose ya have anything for magic or such? I could use some mana right about now," he said. Koudelka eyed the man in front of her, wondering why he acted like he hadn't just spent the night fighting at her side; then she realized he wore a battered brown trench coat and no armor.

"You're not Yuri," she said.

"What are you sayin?" the dark haired man asked and James waived them both back.

"If we don't fight now, we are going to be dead," he said and finished a quick summons of flare magic. Koudelka looked up and screamed; the monstrous insect had taken the few seconds of their distraction and approached them from the side, her sharp forelegs poised to stab downward. She scrambled to her feet, lurching over a nearby pile of stone blocks and began to summon. Yuri followed, skirting the bell rope opening and rudely reached into her pouch.

"Sorry, but if I can find anything to help, this will go a lot better for everybody."

He pulled out leaves and a handful of Roman nuts, dropping them to the stones before finding a small bottle labeled listel. He showed it to Koudelka who nodded and he pulled the cork to drink. The dark liquid flowed down his throat and exploded in his stomach like a fireball. Eyebrows raised, he looked at the bottle: "High Listel" it said in faded letters.

"Good shit," he muttered and grinned when he felt his energies renewing with the spread of the warmth from his belly. "All right, now you're mine bitch," he growled and reached for his fusion. Once again, Inferno was called and he used his renewed strength to form a fireball out of the very air itself, fueling it with his personal energy, his anger and his pure unadulterated joy at fighting. He let it go with no hesitation, and followed it up with a physical attack; making one remarkable jump from their shelter to confront Elaine. One fist pounded into the nearest foreleg, snapping it in two and he took up the broken limp, hanging from pieces of ligature and pulled, separating it from the body and then used it as a weapon.

Koudelka finished her summons and shouted a warning before letting the magic fly toward Elaine, engulfing her in red-hot flames. Inferno grinned, his black lips pulled back to reveal sharp canines, and he tossed aside the battered limb and formed his own fireball, sending it under the monster's belly to explode with such force that she was lifted up slightly from the ground. But no sooner had her taloned feet hit the stones again when Elaine sent out a scream of anger and followed it up with a black cloud of poisonous gas that swept across the roof. Almost instantly black lightening formed over their heads as well, striking down from the miasma and sending James, Koudelka and Inferno flying across the roof.

Yuri came awake slowly, his body aching and his head pounding. He opened bleary eyes to stare at something fuzzy in front of his nose then sneezed, sitting up. The plant stem, as big around as a tree, was in front of him, its drooping petals dipping down onto his head and dripping a clear, viscous fluid. Sticky, Yuri rolled out from under the plant and stood up, shaking himself. He was back on the fourth floor of the church, and his body felt like it had hit every stair on its way back down.

"God damn sonofabitch, I'm a stubborn bastard," he growled and ran for the stairs. But his foot had no sooner hit the stones when the entire building shook. "What the hell you doin' up there," he wondered aloud and noticed the opening above for the bell ropes. That gave him an idea. With a grin, he fused.

What was going on was a firefight between Inferno and Elaine. Inferno's fireballs crashed into Elaine with explosive force, pushing her back to the edge of the tower while her black lightening had pushed James and Koudelka to the ground, nearly dead. Inferno was doing his best to ward off injuries and attack the monster woman, but he was also feeling the effects of the poisonous gas and the electrical discharges. Koudelka, on her knees, was trying to summon another flare spell, while James was teetering on unconsciousness, his face slack and his eyes nearly vacant, a thin trickle of blood seeping from his parted lips. Another crash of electrical energy caught them up and Koudelka slid to the stones panting, her energy gone; Inferno had taken a direct hit, his tough skin crisping under the onslaught, but he refused to surrender. One of his four fists grabbed one of Elaine's limbs and was trying to pull her into a better position but he didn't have the strength.

It was this scene that Yuri saw as he flew up from the bell rope hole, flew up on black wings, his hair standing up and crackling with energy, the same energy that enveloped his body as Seraphic Radiance. Black eyes, flecked with crimson, scanned the bell tower roof, taking in the collapsed forms of Koudelka and James and just beyond, the struggling Inferno and Elaine. Eyes narrowing, he gestured, a flick of his hand and a mere thought and Elaine's body was surrounded in coruscating energies, which bled away from her and came back to James and Koudelka in the form of health and vigor. Then, with a flip of his wings, he circled around the yet struggling Elaine and Inferno and landed, his feet barely touching the cold stones. With a sweep of his hand, Elaine found herself pushed back nearly to the building's edge, momentarily stunned. And Seraphic Radiance looked down at the exhausted fusion at his feet and, without hesitation, bent down and ripped the head from its neck, and raising it up, he gazed a moment at the head of Inferno before it blurred and changed, becoming once again human. Yuri wore a peaceful expression on his face, and Seraphic Radiance tilted his head thoughtfully before tossing the head aside and turning to James and Koudelka.

They were struggling to rise, Koudelka's injured leg forcing her back to her knees in pain and James, watching the creature before him suddenly blur and resolve itself into Yuri, his armor torn and his body showing signs of bruising, yet alive, and he crossed himself.

"You – you killed him," he said, swallowing hard.

Yuri knelt down at Koudelka's side, taking her hand in his. "I had no choice. I had to stop myself from killing..." he shook his head. "Doesn't matter now. We just need to stop that thing," and he indicated Elaine, climbing back to her feet in the near distance.

James looked up and watched the monster collect herself, knowing that the creature would attack again in the next moment and he closed his eyes in prayer, pulling his crucifix from the chain around his neck and holding it.

"Dear God, is this my fault?" he said quietly. "Do you blame me? Are you punishing us – punishing me now because the path of my faith was tainted?" James looked over at the young fighter who was helping Koudelka to her feet, the look of love in his eyes plainly obvious to James. He had just killed ... himself, to prevent his killing someone important – Koudelka – sacrificing himself for the good of the future. And looking over at Elaine, now back on her feet, her wings twittering and fluttering as she called on dark magic and the look of vacant hostility in her eyes – James' mind dwelt on his own sacrifices, his giving up his love for a better man, his taking the oath to the Church. How was his sacrifice different than that of this young man? Yuri was willing to slaughter his own self in order to assure the future of mankind; he was the lamb on the altar of his own offering. James blinked, seeing in his mind's eye the images he had seen in the Vatican, the artistry of those who fervently believed in the Word of God being translated into works of impassioned art. And that very Lamb of God, His own Son, sacrificed to save all mankind.

James slowly rose to his feet, crucifix clutched in one hand and a look of determination and conviction filled his eyes. His first hesitant steps became firm and Koudelka noticed him moving away and called out. But he did not answer, his own mind filled with the light of his belief, the faith of his soul and he yanked hard on the little crucifix, breaking its chain and holding it high in front of him.

"I accept my fate, O God," he said more clearly, "if it is Your wish then I accept my fate." His eyes now glowed with a passion he had not felt in years as he offered up his prayer. "He who has an ear let him hear: if anyone is to go into captivity, then into captivity he will go," he said and stepped closer to Elaine. She had hesitated at his approach, her wings' flutter ceasing as if waiting to see what the human would do. "If anyone is to be killed with a sword, then with a sword he will be killed. I am what I am, I am _content_ with my lot," he shouted now, his voice a paean of praise and faith raised toward heaven. The little crucifix was raised high now above his head and Elaine stepped back, shying away from the cross, her movements now nervous.

Behind him, Koudelka and Yuri both were on their feet, Yuri holding Koudelka firmly in his arms, his eyes glowing in a feral light, shifting from amber to red to near black.

"He's going to kill himself," Koudelka said softly, trying to pull away from Yuri's grip.

"Yeah, I know. But it's meant to be," he said quietly.

James was standing now in front of the giant insect that Elaine had become, the little crucifix facing her monstrous visage. "I – I always loved you, Elaine," he said, his voice breaking as tears flowed from his old eyes and the sky above, roiling black with magic and clouds suddenly broke as a shaft of white light descended from the heavens, a bolt of lightening arcing down to strike the ground beside the church and a wind like a tornado suddenly swirling the clouds, the air, the dirt and debris around, lifting them upward. James saw figures in the light, descending as on wings of gossamer and voices singing high and sweet and the light swirled around, lifting Elaine and James together above the bell tower remains, and hanging between then, his little cross.

The lights swirled about them, each pass touching the monster and James and shedding a little bit of Elaine's exterior; first her legs, then the wings, the exoskeleton fell away, revealing clean white limbs bathed in purity; and her face, finally revealed from beneath the insect mask, her vacant grey eyes pulsing once as the empty shell joined with the soul and the eyes closed and then opened, their blue light shining like the ocean. And James, his body purified by that same light, reached out a hand to her and took her own delicate fingers in his, both of them awash in the blinding light.

Like a soft prayer, Elaine's gentle voice washed over all of them, even Yuri and Koudelka standing in awe below, and as her fingers touched James' they vanished in a cascade of light.

"Let's go home James, let's go home. I have such fond memories of those days."

There was a blast of brilliant light and they were gone but just as both Koudelka and Yuri were blinking the brilliants from their eyes, another explosion greeted them from below. Gouts of flame surged up the bell rope opening and spouted like a geyser into the air. Beneath them, the stones shook and another explosion rocked the church itself, sending them both to their knees.

"Oh no!" Koudelka exclaimed. "The flames – we're trapped!"

Sure enough, the stairs leading down were now an inferno, flames licking up the stones and blackening the walls and there was no other way off the tower. Koudelka stood staring into the pit of flames burning in the depths from the bell rope opening and sighed.

Yuri gave her shoulder a squeeze before moving away, checking first the inner grounds from the roof and seeing flames pouring from the church's front doors, before going to the opposite side. Below, the flying buttresses were draped in black smoke and just beyond, he could make out the monastery's graveyard and the grave of Daniel Scotius. To his left was the roadway leading up and Yuri nodded, seeing old Roger Bacon shuffling down the road toward safety.

"Come on Koudelka, this way," he said and went to her when she was slow to move. "This way, Koudelka."

She looked up at him, her eyes bleary in fatigue and shock and she nodded.

"Trust me," he said. "We'll be just fine." He bent to sweep her up into his arms, calling his fusion at the same time so that when he stood it was as the black winged Seraphic Radiance. He looked down at the diminutive woman in his arms, her eyes suddenly wide and he smiled. He carried her to the edge of the tower and spread his wings, the feathers ruffling in the morning breeze from off the sea, and then leapt. The wind lifted them up, catching under his wings and letting them soar, yawing to landward Seraphic streaked over the stone and steel gates of the monastery, flying above the burning mansion and out over the grasslands beyond. Flying was full of trust and joy for him, trust in the wind, trust in his wings and strength and the sheer joy of flight itself. Today was no different, save he held a beautiful woman in his arms, and felt the life in her thrilling at the flight, her heart beating fast and the pulse throbbing at her throat.

Koudelka felt her heart in her throat as Yuri, the young man she had fought beside all night, suddenly lifted her up and leapt off the building. He was Yuri, she could see that, and yet he was much different; his skin was pale white with black patterns like tattoos along arms and one side of his face; and his shock of brown hair stood straight up, as if a jolt of electricity had sent it there – and his eyes… his eyes were now black, a flecking of red pulsing through them and part of her was both terrified and excited by his solution to their problem of escape. And one little part of her wondered why he hadn't used this one before.

Seraphic turned on his wings again, letting the air luff through the feathers and he descended at a fast clip, the grasslands whipping by just inches below them, the occasional smack of a tall frond whipping his body in passage. He turned amused eyes onto Koudelka riding in his arms, her face a mixture of awe and delight and she giggled as he swept them up again into the sky to skirt around the eastern monastery grounds, to float above the front gate. She looked up at him, her arms wrapped around his neck and smiled then nodded down toward the earth.

"We should land, don't you think?"

Seraphic nodded once and they descended, ever so gently, until his feet landed on the dirt of the roadway. He set Koudelka down next to him and she moved back, looking him up and down, eyes taking in the not-quite Yuri-ness of him. And she giggled, hand covering her mouth as she pointed.

"Doesn't leave much to the imagination, does it?" she said behind her hand, giggles erupting again. Seraphic looked down at himself and shrugged. "So what are you supposed to be? An angel?"

He shook his head and grinned. "A God of Earth," he said and his voice was strangely a mixture of Yuri's and something else, something deeper and yet more ethereal.

Koudelka nodded. "Well that fits," she said and indicated him with a wave of her hand. "Most Earth Gods _are_ represented that way," and another giggle fit bubbled to the surface.

Seraphic's lips pressed close and he narrowed his eyes. "I can prove my claim," he said and the smirk escaped his control.

"I'm sure you can," Koudelka teased and then laughed as the sudden blur that was Seraphic Radiance had them both tumbling in the grass beside the main gate, his black wings spread out to cover them both. "But what if someone…" she started to say and then burst into giggles, unable to resist Seraphic's insistent tongue.

The grass was damp with evening mist and Yuri wished he still had his trench coat, not for himself but for Koudelka. She was curled up in the grass, and the wind from off the Irish Sea was turning bitter. Looking up at the monastery ruins his eyes spotted the pile of goods left behind by Edward Plunkett, and next to that was a splay-legged horse that must have belonged to Koudelka. With a snort, he rose and sauntered along the wall, catching up the reins and clicking softly at the horse's nicker of alarm. Holding the reins in one hand, he knelt to investigate Edward's goods.

"Ah-ha!" he exclaimed and pulled out a canvas tent with retractable poles; next came a knapsack with food and clothing, and a bedroll. Gathering these up he moved away from the wall and set up the tent, hammering a peg in the hard dirt to hold the horse. He was setting the bedroll inside when Koudelka walked up, her eyes brimming with humor.

"Scavenging again, Yuri?" He laughed.

"Well, Edward won't be needing it and we will," he indicated the tent and bedding. "An' I intend to get good use out of it too."

Koudelka chuckled softly. "I just bet you do. Plan to sleep alone?"

Yuri looked down at the diminutive gypsy woman, his hands resting on his hips and a smirk playing on his lips. "Like hell," he said.

"I really should be going, Yuri," Koudelka said and waived one hand at the evening mist and clouds again scudding across the sky. "It will rain soon and I need to get going."

Yuri pointed at the splay-legged horse chomping on some grass behind him. "On that old nag? Come on, Koudelka. I've got a nice warm tent here, there's some food, and we can be warm and toasty together," he said and, reaching out, pulled her closer by her belt, pulling her into his arms.

"But Yuri… we've already … I mean, you don't have to do this… it's not as if you…" He bent down and covered her mouth with his and her protests died, but after a minute she pushed against him, moving back from his arms. "Yuri…"

"Koudelka," he said huskily, "I love you."

"Yuri, you can't possibly… you – you don't even know who you are, or what you're doing. Have you… have you fixed what you did wrong?" she asked, and she looked up into his amber gaze and saw him turn away, a frown beginning to crease his brow and his bit his lower lip.

"I – I don't know," he said quietly.

"Then how can you know if you love me?"

"I – I know I do, that's all. I know I'm supposed to be here … an' I know I'm with you... that's all," he finished quietly, his gaze never leaving the pounded earth. Koudelka sighed.

"Yuri, you saved me; you protected me like you promised, but you're here. Are you supposed to be here, in this time and place? Is this what you are supposed to be doing?"

Yuri shrugged, diffidently. "I guess," he said and when Koudelka moved away, he sighed. "I don't know. Maybe yes? Maybe no. I – I don't remember much anymore, I wish I did. It's all a jumble in my head like snowflakes. I know that I had a wife; an' that I messed up killin' you … but I fixed that- yer alive, but I don't know if it's all right now or whatever. I mean, Edward's still dead…" he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fuck, am I supposed to save him now, too?"

"I don't know, Yuri," Koudelka said with a sigh, "but we'll see what we can find out, shall we? You and I?"

Yuri looked up and, like a child, grinned, making all that went before become a forgotten memory.

"Yeah, an' we can sleep together too maybe? An' maybe a lot more."

Koudelka laughed softly. There was more going on here than she knew or understood, but she wanted to stay with Yuri – to help him as he had helped her. And he wasn't an unpleasant man to be with, if a little childish and insistent. But overall, someone she could be comfortable with for a while. She looked up at the grey and black monastery, wisps of black smoke rose above the burnt out church and she spotted movement; down by the graveyard the old hermit was shuffling with a heavy armload of books.

"Why don't I see what kind of food I can whip up from those supplies Yuri, while you go help the old man," and she pointed up the road to the graveyard.

Yuri followed her gaze and snorted.

"Him an' his books," he said. "Sure, I'll help him," he leaned forward to give her a peck on the cheek and sprinted up the road.

A/N: Hopefully haven't bored you all to tears. I know this seems to be dragging on. Be assured, I will not leave you all in the lurch - the story is complete on my end, just needs editing. So please, look forward to the next one shortly.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

A/N Nope, still don't own a thing. Darn! Gotta warn you now, folks. More violence (Lots!) and a little romance, plus a surprise for Yuri! So, click BACK if you want your little virgin eyes spared! And this one is loooong.

They were gathered around a small campfire with an old iron pot suspended over it, bubbling with stew. The aroma had enticed both Yuri, whom Koudelka knew had a hollow leg, and the old hermit, Roger Bacon, drawing them from their scavenging of the ruins. The old man had taken a bit of the stew on his bony finger and declared it fit for Heaven's Table and sat down to a bowl with them. They ate in silence for a while and, once the stew was finished, Yuri turned to Roger Bacon.

"Well Rog, I guess we gotta do it all again," he said and the old hermit looked up at the young man with curiosity.

"Do what again, youngster?"

Yuri sighed and aimed his chin at the clearing at the foot of the road. "Build your house. Well, it should go faster this time around – I've had practice. But I gotta tell ya, I ain't eating yer cookin' this time."

Koudelka and Roger both looked at Yuri and Koudelka chuckled.

"Well he's a lousy cook," Yuri said and grinned.

"I can do some of the cooking then," Koudelka volunteered. "Just don't expect too much," and she waived at the remains of their simple meal.

Yuri grinned. "Tasted just fine to me," he said and then belched. "So, Rog, where ya sleeping tonight?"

The old monk looked up at the darkened monastery and shrugged bony shoulders. "Inside I imagine."

"No," exclaimed Koudelka. "That's not necessary. We've got the tent; you can have the spare bed."

Yuri, one eye narrowed at the old man, turned toward the gypsy woman. "That's not necessary, _is_ it Roger."

"Yuri, he can sleep on the spare cot," Koudelka repeated and her voice did not brook a refusal. From across the fire Yuri felt a sudden frisson, and a squirming in his head as his fusions moved restlessly. He winced, blinking into the dark, and then nodded.

"O-okay Koudelka, whatever you want babe."

Roger glanced at Koudelka from his side of the fire and nodded. "So, Yuri, tell me about this house."

Yuri sighed. 'It's always the same... about the house...boring,' he thought, then began telling them about Roger's house, the one he had seen the first time he had come to Wales.

The night was again overcast with winds sending the clouds scudding across the sky in tatters of grey and black. That same wind howled like a banshee through the hollow ruins of Nemeton and Yuri sat up in the cot and listened. Beside him Koudelka, wrapped in the blanket and breathing softly, was making soft vocal noises, her voice rising occasionally in bothersome dreams. On the other side of the tent was Roger; he too slept with groans, moans and grunts that only a hollowed out fossil could create. Yuri listened intently for a moment then climbed from the cot and pulled on his trousers and boots. He snagged his tattered shirt on the way out and stood for a moment outside the tent as he pulled it on. The crash of the surf below the cliff was the same as always; too loud to have a conversation over but not so loud that it was annoying. If anything Yuri liked the surf, it smashed against the cliff wall with insistence, whittling away at the mother granite year after year. In another millennia, the cliff might not be here. Shuddering, he checked on the old horse then climbed up the road to the monastery gates.

The huge gates were still closed and barred, the fire not touching them. In his mind, Yuri had a brief flash of memory, of a time when he blew the gates to pieces as Seraphic, and making love to Koudelka next to those gates. But with a shake of his head, the memories scattered and fled like the clouds above and he breathed deeply, his mind suddenly troubled.

'If this is what I have to do… go back again to rescue Edward … well, then I gotta,' he thought. He looked up the road toward the graveyard, old and fallen into ruin, and found his feet carrying him there. The bulk of the graves had fallen, some rolling down the cliff face, others merely cracked and broken, lying on their faces. In the far corner, another grave was split in two and he crossed the desolate space to kneel at the gravestone. Carved into the cracked and broken marker were the words, Charlotte, RIP and an unreadable date.

"Man I really fucked that up didn't I?" he asked the grave. "If I'd given Koudelka those letters, maybe… maybe… ah hell, you probably wouldn'ta listened anyway," he finished, but he reached forward and brushed dirt from the little grave and sat on his heels for a minute, a wordless prayer going up for the little ghost of a girl who had died on her birthday. After a few minutes, he rose and kicking at the dirt, looked sheepishly at the lowered sky.

"Yeah, rest in peace princess," he said and then turned toward the other grave marker – the tall Celtic cross a black shadow at the edge of the cliff. He leaned against the marker, resting his arms on the top and looked out over the dark surge of the Irish Sea. He felt a weight in his chest and a wave of sorrow that stirred his fusions and he wondered just how bad he had made things this time. Here he was, in 1898... somewhere in China he was just turning ten and his mother was butchered before his eyes... and his father was dead or dying in Kuihai tower and he was embarking on a long and lonely journey toward...

"Toward what?" He suddenly realized he had no idea what happened afterward; the images of the silver-haired Charlotte leapt into his mind but the ghost was wearing a blue ribbon in her hair and giggling and he felt a stirring inside him that longed for that beribboned ghost; longed for her in ways he thought might be just a tad strange even for him.

"_You'd have sex with a corpse?_" he heard James' voice echoing in his mind and he knew that was exactly what he'd do, if he could fix things... if he could remember what it was he was doing... and for whom. He felt a sudden frisson and looked up, his amber eyes scanning the dark of the monastery and he could swear he saw a shadow leaving the main gates… those same gates were now smashed and broken, one pulled from its hinges the other hanging crumpled against the stone retaining wall. Yuri blinked and rubbed his face, looking again only to see the gates whole as before and he shuddered.

"What the fuck is happening to me?" With a shrug, he turned back down the dirt track toward the tent and wondered how long he'd be here with just Roger and Koudelka; and how long he had before he forgot everything.

The tent was snug against the blowing wind and he tied the flap shut once more upon entering; he kicked off his boots and climbed back into bed not bothering to remove his trousers. He snuggled close to Koudelka, putting one arm over her shoulder and as he courted sleep, he listened to the wind howling in the ruins of the monastery.

The howling didn't stop even though he had found shelter; the wolves were relentless when they hunted and the pack had been on his trail for most of the day. He had despaired finding shelter from the storm and the wind and snow had been a constant trial, but at last he found an old burnt farmhouse on the edge of the forest and he huddled inside the lee of the roof, teeth chattering and mind gibbering in fear. Outside he felt like ice, the cold and snow riming him with an icy veneer; but inside he was a furnace, an empty furnace, but a warm one. He didn't understand what was happening – hadn't understood anything at all these past days, not since his mother … Against his volition those images waged war in his mind once more, the friends and neighbors of the village pushing in the door, tramping in with mud and rain on their boots and death in their eyes. He hadn't known that at the time, but his mother had, pulling him back to shelter behind her skirt; but it wasn't enough. They slew his mother, his lovely, caring mother – the one light in both his and his father's life – slaughtered her and left him to fend for himself. Well, no, that's not quite what happened, he thought. He had vague memories of coming awake, a fire burning in his guts and a scream of insane hatred ripping from his throat and the urge to kill – nothing fancy, just rip and tear and shred - and when it was all over, standing half naked in the little house, blood spattered on the wall, dripping down in rivers to the matting on the floor and the monsters, nee his neighbors, were pulp at his feet.

With a bone-shaking shudder, Yuri thrust away the memories that ran through his mind like liquid fire. His mind didn't burn the way it had, his blood yet remained magma, but his soul quacked in dire and abject fear – the same fear he felt for those rapacious wolves. If he could last out the night, last until first light, then he stood a chance of surviving. His only hope had been in flight – not to Jilin, but north and east. East, to his mother's homeland, to Russia. He didn't know if he had family there – didn't matter really, but he knew that in China, an orphan would soon end up as a slave or worse; he had no intention of ending up as someone's work horse or in the carnal pits of Shanghai or Beijing.

Huddling down against a burnt out wall, he lay his head on his bent knees, and let the tears flow, quietly at first, then more intensely, silent but with shivers that wracked his small frame. He wanted so much to change what had happened, change his failure into success; his father had made him promise to protect his mother while he was gone, but he'd been gone so long this time and the monsters came – and really, he was just a little boy. No! I'm a man; I have to be a man, especially now, he thought and he could almost hear an echoing rasp of laughter through the howls of the wolves. He looked up and scanned the dark ruin, holding his breath, but could see no one.

"Wh-who's there?" he called softly, his voice quavering with more than the cold, but the haunting laughter did not return so he put his head down and fell asleep. And instantly he wished he were awake. Oh, he knew he was dreaming – he had to be, for what else could a place like this be but a dream. He looked around, seeing the large iron gates closed tightly against his retreat and swallowed. Timid steps took him down the steps to the stone path, to his left a pair of grave markers each bearing strange symbols. To his right, three more and directly ahead a lone gravestone stood, desolate in its isolation and all the more frightening because of the glowing symbol on its face. He knew that symbol, had seen it in his nightmares: it was the symbol for Darkness, his own symbol his mother had once told him.

He was about to investigate the grave more closely when he heard cackling laughter, and he looked over to the verge before a huge mausoleum. He knew that place, had seen it in his dreams, and hated it. Floating in front of the mausoleum were four freakish masks, not unlike the beloved Fox mask his father had bought him. He could feel his heart suddenly pounding in his chest and sweat beaded up on his brow; this was more than a nightmare, he could feel himself drawn to the steps leading to the mausoleum and he could not resist. A handful of scree lay in front of the stairs and he stopped when his bare feet touched the small sharp pebbles. Blood oozed between his toes and he could feel his feet getting wet from the blood; he looked down and realized the pebbles were razor sharp and he had lacerated the bottom of his feet.

One of the masks, a strange one with swords thrusting through it, cackled at him and swooped down the stairs to stop inches in front of him, sharp swords flashing sharp and frighteningly deadly.

"Who- who are you?" he asked and his voice cracked and the masks cackled with amused glee.

"They are your judges, _boy_," a raspy voice said from near the gravestone, the one with the darkness crest. Slowly Yuri turned frightened eyes toward the stone and his heart leapt into his throat; leaning almost negligently against the dark grave marker was a creature from his earliest nightmares. It stood taller than his father, toping at six feet; dark skin clothed it, knobbed and wrinkled like a lizard. Two skeletal wings rested easily on its back, the membranes thin, but strong. But the face was what truly terrified young Yuri for it was a face like a skull, bony, ridged and utterly evil. Dark energy crackled in its eyes, and when it smiled, the black lips pulled back to reveal even blacker fangs. Yuri moved back a handful of paces, looking from the masks to the monster and felt his heart racing, pounding like a drum from the summer festivals.

"You can run but you cannot hide, boy," the monster said and, as if hunting prey, the monster suddenly swooped across the ruinous graveyard toward Yuri. Instantly the boy's legs were moving, pounding down the paves back toward the distant gate, but before he could reach that barrier, before he could even attempt to climb those restraining iron bars, the monster had him, and he screamed.

Koudelka and Roger Bacon were sitting by the newly stoked fire, Koudelka stirring a pot with oatmeal. The winds had abated only slightly in the night, and the temperatures had dropped while thick clouds were once again building on the horizon, threatening rain. Both had awoken early, Roger from out of a lifetime of habit, and Koudelka had started breakfast with the thought that Yuri would need the extra sleep. They both jumped to their feet at Yuri's fearful scream issuing from the tent and, even as the scream gurgled down to silence the tent exploded upward, tatters of tent and poles and bedding scattering in the wind as the black-winged monster rose into the windy sky. Koudelka knew instantly it was one of Yuri's monsters, but Roger huddled down at the fire, muttering a prayer.

"Yuri!" Koudelka shouted but the winged creature did not respond. Instead, he swooped upward, skimming the top of the monastery wall and riding the winds upward to spiral around the smoking ruin of the bell tower. Then, with a flip of a wing he headed north, up the coast to Aberystwyth. Koudelka turned and helped Roger to his feet, a feeling of dread clutching at her. "He's gone, Roger. And I think he headed for the town."

"God have mercy on them. What – what was that, my dear?"

Koudelka shook her head and turned toward the elder monk. "That was Yuri," she answered but could not continue. Roger watched her with unblinking eyes then shrugged, his bony shoulders rising and falling and shifting the ragged robes he wore.

"Well there is nothing we can do about it, so why don't we start cleaning up this mess."

In the skies overhead, the clouds continued to gather, dark and pregnant with rain, and the madly flying fusion soared on the winds until he was just outside of Aberystwyth. He let the wind catch his wings, yawing a bit and used the momentum to strafe the town's main street; at that early hour the traffic was small, but a few families were out and farmers, herders, and merchants soon found themselves diving to the ground as the dark angel of death swooped overhead, devilish red glee showing in eyes and teeth - the monster was so close to them. Past the town hall and over the spire of the nearby church Death Emperor flew, circling around to strike viciously at the church's cross above the spire, ripping it free and carrying it along before turning back toward the center of town.

Once, twice, thrice the hell spawn strafed the town before turning inland once more. He over flew several herdsman shepherding a few cows in the field and swerved back to wreck havoc, scattering the herdsmen and the cattle before landing in the tall grass. With a look of hellish glee the fusion monster leapt at a lone steer and plunged the church's cross into the hapless beast, impaling it on the metal of the cross before grabbing it by hip and horn and ripping the beast in two, scattering entrails over the grass and himself before tossing the carcass aside and flying off toward the monastery again. When he returned to the monastery, he landed at the clearing before the gate; Koudelka and Roger had gathered the remnants of the tent and the cots and blankets, stacking them near the outer wall. The horse had remained pegged and one look at the bloody fusion monster sent it into a panic, rising up onto its hind legs and screaming in fear.

From inside the crumbling monastery the cries of the old horse echoed amidst the tumbling stones and Koudelka looked up, a look of horror on her face. A sudden frisson clutched at her and she ran through the ruins toward the gate, fear clutching at her heels. She pulled the post door open and stepped outside; below her was the dirt road leading off to town and to her right the small gassy verge where they had left the horse. But now the monster had gotten to the horse and… Koudelka screamed, stepping out from the doorway and raising her arms above her head, summoned her flare magic. Seconds later an explosion of fire burst over Death Emperor's head as he was rending and dismembering the old gelding, blood and bits of entrails still dripping from his claws. Mindlessly he screamed in pain, the fire washing the fusion clean of the bloody gore and burning away the mad glee that had filled its dark heart; and then the flames receded, leaving behind a char of smoking horsemeat and a crumpled Yuri.

Shock and dismay warred inside Koudelka as she approached the supine monster slayer; here was the man who had fought by her side, the man whom she had made love to in the swaying grass. Yet this man had become a mindless monster, attacking and slaying her old horse and god knows what else; dared she trust him again? Each step brought her closer to the unconscious man and her heart was beating hard and painfully in her chest, and when she knelt at his side, pulling him over to see his face, she sighed in relief. Yes, it was Yuri again, not the monster. But what would he be when he awoke, she wondered. She tapped his face with one finger, poking him gently until his eyes fluttered and opened; those amber orbs looking confused then brightening as he smiled.

"Morning," he muttered and Koudelka suddenly reached back and slapped him, his head ringing with the blow. "What!"

"You killed my horse, bastard!" she exclaimed and rose to her feet. "Get up."

Rubbing the red mark on his cheek, Yuri rolled to his feet, standing unsteadily on the churned up and charred ground.

"What happened here? A bar-b-que?" he stupidly asked then noticed the charred remains of the old swayback horse. "Hey, who killed the horse?"

"You did," Koudelka replied, her voice hard edged. "Why did you suddenly change like that Yuri? What is _wrong_ with you?" she asked.

Yuri turned confused tree sap eyes onto his gypsy lover and shrugged. "I dunno. What did I do? I don't remember anything after…" he paused, rubbing his hands over his face, "after I came back in and went to sleep. I maybe had a dream or somethin'."

"And _that_ would cause you to turn into one of your monsters and terrorize the valley?"

Yuri looked up suddenly, surprised. "I did what? Oh." He looked around their camp area, noting finally the tent folded away and their goods looking broken and bent but otherwise safe along the monastery wall. "I don't know, Koudelka. I maybe lost it in my sleep?"

Koudelka snorted. "If that was a maybe, then I don't think I want to be around you," she said and stormed off, her steps leading her down the dirt road to the small stile crossing the creek.

Shit, he thought. What the hell did I do and why? He looked around for Roger Bacon and found him inside Patrick Heyworth's partially destroyed mansion. He was crating up the books and manuscripts that remained. But when he offered to assist, Roger told him instead to gather the books in the library. Put off, Yuri wandered back to the library, crossing the inner grounds of the monastery. He paused at the church entrance, still smoking but now totally charred and tumbled down in ruin. He rubbed his neck, feeling the hairs prickling beneath his rough hand and he shuddered.

'I better get a-hold of myself,' he thought and looked up at the roofless church. One wall stood with the remains of the Rose window, glass shattered and sprinkled like crimson fairy dust over the grounds, while the remaining graveyard wall rose in charred and silent accusation. Looking around the ruin of the monastery, he felt himself lost, as if the world were spinning crazily around him. Listening he could almost hear the crunch of gravel under boot heels outside the western wall, and the tap-tap-tap of a wooden staff along the roadway. He blinked and felt a shadow lifting from around him and he looked up, but the same grey and depressing clouds scudded inland from the Irish Sea that had been lowing these last few hours, even to when he arrived yesterday. Shaking himself, he made his way across the grounds to the library to begin packing.

By nightfall, Roger and Yuri had gathered the remaining manuscripts and tomes and stacked them in the lower library. Then, over the fire that night, Yuri listened as Roger regaled him with ideas for his magnificent new house. Across from them at the fire sat Koudelka, her eyes dark, her look even darker. She refused to speak to him and Yuri was both angered and hurt by the cold shoulder.

'You'd think I was a vampire or something,' he thought irreverently, poking the fire with a stick and pushing ashes around the charcoals. Smoke rose in wisps and grey tendrils and he shuddered, suddenly feeling cold. 'It's not like I did it on purpose. What does she think I am – a monster?' With a jerk, he suddenly looked up at the gypsy woman and rose to his feet, tossing the stick into the fire.

"Fine, be that way. See if I give a damn!" he turned on his heels and stormed back into the monastery grounds, leaving both Roger and Koudelka stunned.

"Eh? Now what?" Roger asked, looking from Koudelka to the retreating back of the young harmonixer, his ancient visage wrinkled in confusion.

"I don't know," Koudelka said then shrugged. "I'm going to sleep now Roger. Bank the fire before you come in, will you?" And she crossed the clearing and entered the newly erected tent, closing the flap behind her.

Yuri kicked his way through the ruined monastery wall and into the inner grounds. He stopped at the now dry fountain and picked up a rock, lobbing it across the grounds, and hearing a ping-ping-thud as it careened across the flags and hit the church wall. With a smirk, he reached for another and threw it hard, listening with a grin as the stone smashed against the church. Kicking at a tangle of weeds at his feet, he turned toward the arbor and kicked open the grated door. Inside, the floor bathed in blood, was still sticky wet. He knelt beside Ogden and Bessie, the old caretakers still lay beside the guillotine, their bodies bloated and swollen in death; maggots had clustered from the flies and he poked idly at the old woman's breast, oozing out stinking, putrefying fluids onto his unprotected fingers and a skittering sound came from beneath her dress and Yuri watched as a rat wiggled free and scurried away. Yuri sighed.

"That's for poisoning me, bitch," he muttered. Without thinking, he rifled her apron pockets but snorted when he found nothing. "Cheap whore," he commented then swung around the dead bodies to the ladder behind them. He looked down and saw more blood on the floor below. "Lousy housekeepers." Kneeling, he descended the ladder.

The room below looked much as it had on his last visit: the floor awash with sticky blood, and on a dissection table in the middle of the room, a corpse lie rotting, bits of flesh still attached by thin ligatures. He paused to look at the body, noting the sunken features and the one hanging eyeball. Yuri shook his head.

'These guys are unreal,' he thought. Across the room were the shattered bronze doors, one crumpled and crushed, the other shredded like paper. He stood for a moment, remembering that brief moment when he had caught up to Koudelka; his hand reaching through those self-same doors, the one panel bent and he leaning against it, the cold of the metal seeping into his skin. He felt her had reaching through the metal doors, touching his seeking hand with cool fingers and he felt her breath on his cheek again, and wished she were truly there with him. But no, she was above, in the clean air of the hillside, probably sleeping peacefully while he, he festered here below. Shaking himself, he scowled at the bloody room before stepping through to the cesspool beyond.

"It's yer own damn fault, stupid!" he growled and heard his voice rebound in the dark chamber. "Ah fuck it." Beyond the crushed doors was the septic tank and the font; this he stopped at and washed his face, letting the cold water dribble down his arms and chest, spattering his worn boots. He ran wet fingers through filthy hair and remembered briefly another time and another place and someone's repressed giggles over his filthy hair. He looked up at the glittering water that lapped at the feet of the statue on the other side of the font, the blue of the water rippling in the pool. He wondered whose giggle it had been, thinking it was Koudelka for a moment then suddenly collapsing to his knees on the platform.

Images crashed in his mind, water lapping at his hands at he splashed muddy rainwater onto his bloody face, wiping it clean with the offered hankie – a delicate lace hankie that smelled of lilacs. He could still feel the cold rain as it pattered on the muddy ground around them and the little noises it made as it struck his trench coat. He took off the coat and offered it to the lady, draping its warm weight around delicate shoulders and smiled, taking in the small figure beneath his hands. He looked at her through rain-dappled eyelashes and blinked the rain from his blurred vision; she looked so delicate, so pale in the cold night air. He wanted to tell her so, wanted to bend down to kiss her but something in her eyes, something in the set of her mouth told him he'd better refrain. And when he offered her back her dirty hankie, that same mouth moued before smiling, the silver blonde head shaking as she turned away, and suddenly his world grew just a little dimmer.

Yuri blinked, scattering the light refracted images in his eyes, looking around at the underground font. He ran one hand over his face and exhaled breathily, wondering silently what he thought he was doing, day dreaming alone in the monastery basement. 'If I'm not careful I could be lunch for something,' he thought then without a backward glance, he left the font, taking the corridor leading to Charlotte's quarters. Even as he climbed the stairs to her second floor room, he chided himself for a fool, wishing he'd thought of those letters sooner, remembering he'd broken his stupid hand in getting them and then passing them off as nothing. Jumping down from the narrow access, he paused at the empty dinning table, its cutlery dusty with age.

"Charlotte, I'm sorry," he said to the quiet of the room. The silence was accusatory and he felt the prickle of guilt on the back of his neck. "I admit, I'm a stupid bastard sometimes, an' I don't always know what's best. I shoulda given those letters to Koudelka right away." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the hairs prickle under his fingers. "Anyway, I'm sorry. I hope yer restin' in peace and all." There it was again, the prickling at the nape of his neck. He turned just as a shadow leapt from the doorway, pushing him up and over the table, scattering the cutlery over the ragged carpet.

Yuri grappled with the huge beast, shoving it off him long enough to identify it; a strange zombie hound. The beast was as big as him, with human legs but huge hound front paws that sported long claws; its canine head was just as large, with sharp fangs, and Yuri clamped one hand around its neck trying to keep those fangs away from his face. The dog monster pushed forward relentlessly, a growl deep in its throat and Yuri found himself breathing hot canine breath.

"God damn stupid fuckin' beast," he growled, pushing harder, then rolling slightly to get a boot under the animal's belly and shoving hard. The zombie creature exhaled fetid breath as Yuri shoved it a few feet away, shoving it hard against a nearby bookshelf and climbed quickly to his knees to follow that shove with a right hook to the monster's head. The fist connected with a thick sound and the creature's head snapped around, the massive neck muscles the only thing keeping the head from breaking.

"Die you sonofabitch," Yuri ground out between clenched teeth and reached for his knife, only to realize he'd left camp without any weapons. "Ah fuck me!"

The next few minutes were frantic as Yuri changed tactics, trying instead to get a grip on the massive beast, but the creature was fast, leaping in to grab a snarling mouthful of Yuri's trousers before he could jump out of the way, and then sinking those same fangs into his leg. Poison dripped from razor sharp fangs and Yuri could feel the fire of its passage as it burned upward into his body and he cursed vociferously, calling down curses from every corner of every dock he'd ever worked on. Finally giving up on getting another grip on the fast moving monster's neck, he kicked out again, slamming a booted heel into the chest of the zombie hound and sending it skidding back a few feet to land on its tail.

"You'll wish you'd never fucked with me, you bastard," the harmonixer spat out and reached for a fusion. His soul merged and joined with the powerful fire fusion at his beck-and-call, summoning Inferno from the depths of his mind and transforming into the lower level embodiment of Fire. In a heartbeat, the giant fusion swung on the hound, now once again snapping at his heels and two massive fists connected with its ribs, caving in the bones and tissue and sending the beast back, yelping in pain. Then with a black-lipped snarl, Inferno summoned fire, a ball of blinding flame that exploded between his outstretched hands and engulfed the zombie. It struggled futilely for a moment, its body immolated by the searing flames, and it tried to escape only to turn into char in a half dozen steps. Satisfied, Inferno turned his magic on himself, using a healing warmth to burn away the poison in his system and then, with a huff, he was released and Yuri stood free, surrounded by smoking ash that that once been the bedroom of little Charlotte.

Shaking his head Yuri looked around at the mess he'd made and sighed. "Sorry Charlotte," he said and turned around to take the side passage to Patrick's mansion. Or rather, what was left of it.

In point of fact, there was still considerably more of Patrick's mansion than at first glance; but the fire had damaged supports and walls and blackened everything. The once fine gilt work was now dim with smoke and the once fine parquet floor was covered with grimy ashes. The upstairs library was a shambles, and Yuri knew that most of the books had been removed already, but he was curious about the vestry and chapel they had reached through Patrick's office. Yuri stood at the bottom of the stairway and shook his head. They were gone; only the pulley system they had rigged to remove the books was left and so with a shrug he instead entered the picture gallery beneath the stairs. It too had suffered heavy damage and the font, which once had bubbled clear and cool, was now cracked and broken, never again to burble with holy water. But what surprised Yuri was the left-hand wall next to the door. He hadn't been here since before the fire and now the entire wall was gone – he could enter the vestry. Kicking through the debris he climbed through the burnt out and tumbled stone wall into the first floor vestry; it too showed heavy damage, and the small shrine was a melted slag.

To his left the metal doors were open, the metal now a fall of stream-like metal that had pooled on the once ornate parquet floors. And the vestry hall, with its small lady chapel to the right was gone, the only thing standing were the iron doors at the end of the hall. Curious Yuri kicked his way through the charred ruins to the door. He recalled seeing them before, but neither James nor Koudelka had even mentioned entering. He tried the door handles, but could see that the hinges were melted. Rummaging around he found a bit of the metal that once had graced the gates into the church and pulled it free of debris. Hefting its still sturdy mass, he returned to the chapel doors.

He jammed the iron bar into the doorframe and pushed, bending the doorjamb barely an inch, then he slammed his booted heel against the frame as he pushed harder. One melted hinge popped free, dropping to the floor beside him and with a smile of grim determination, he went to work on the other hinge. After another minute of applied pounding and kicking, the second hinge crumbled and with a nod, Yuri kicked in the iron door. It clanged loudly in the silence of the burnt out church and Yuri stepped through, holding the iron bar like a weapon; something was moving in the shadows and the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling. He shrugged his shoulders, knowing that feeling meant trouble, but not afraid. A dry dragging sound came from the far end of the chapel, and Yuri stepped through the ruined door and paused. Ahead, on both sides, were towering columns, heavily veined with gold and still attractive in their smoke grimed clothing. A thick pile carpet lead up the central isle of the chapel to the font, and it muffled Yuri's boots as he walked up to the holy fountain. It lay against the far wall, surrounded by once beautiful guilt work, and the marble was still white; but the font was dry and Yuri smirked.

"Looks like no water for you," he muttered and turned to leave when the dry feather sound echoed in the chambers above him. He looked up into the dark vault of the chapel and watched as something moved slowly down from the roof and a frisson played on his spine as he wondered if it was that damned gargoyle. But no, this was no gargoyle. It was huge, much bigger than the stone embodiment of malice. This thing had feathers, and was ... Yuri blinked as it descended to the font and hovered mere inches over his head. It was floating on two huge pairs of wings, rainbow colored and beautiful, and totally upside-down.

Yuri snorted. "What, you don't know yer up from yer down?" he laughed dryly then brought up the iron bar and waived it at the monster. "Okay, I got yer compass – right here." He gave it no thought, just leapt at the bird-like creature and slashed across its large belly, sending it wheeling and gyrating in the air above, spiraling around him and coming back to the font, undamaged. "What the fuck?"

Shaking his head, Yuri moved back, scanning the enclosed chapel. There was nothing here he could use as a weapon – or was there? Along the chapel isle were long seats, like benches made of stone, but on the platform itself were set chairs: regal shaped, and made of heavy wrought iron. With a grin, Yuri ducked under the bird-like creature and grabbed up one of the heavy chairs, hefting it easily by its tall, straight back and, swinging it around, slammed it into the bird's winged back. The monster spun in place, wings fluttering to catch itself, and its strangely elongate beak, shaped more like a trumpet, swung around and slammed into Yuri, knocking him hard into the fountain wall.

With a groan, the harmonixer climbed to his feet, shaking his head.

"You just aren't gonna go down easy, are ya?" he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Man, it's never easy," he grumbled his favorite complaint and jumped away from the platform, ducking as the flying monster swiped at him. "Guess I gotta go for the big guys," he said.

Stepping back, Yuri considered his options. Alone, without support from Koudelka, he knew he'd have a fight on his hands. Part of him relished the idea, and he felt an upsurge of confidence and as he rotated his neck and shoulders in preparation, he laughed softly.

"Oh, yer gonna wish you'd never come down outa yer holy tree," Yuri said and reached for his fusion. "Oh yeah, I ain't messin' around here, buddy." In the next instant, Yuri's body warped and changed, shifting to that of his fusion. Only slightly taller with black wings, Seraphic Radiance stood on the chapel floor for only a moment before gently lifting off the sullied ground. For a moment only his sable eyes stared at the floating monstrosity before him, sparks of energy arching up and down his pale body. Then with an almost negligent wave of his hand, he pulled down power from the heavens, a huge black ball of spatial energy that exploded like a sun in the dark chapel. Like a nova, the light and energy pierced the darkness of the chapel, cascading like a blessing from God and bathing all in its pure light. And the monstrous bird, the apostle of darkness in the monastery, took it all in like mana. Seraphic Radiance frowned.

The monster still hovered over the font, its wings flickering. Unexpectedly it moved, faster than it had before, spinning around and arcing up to the vaulted ceiling before spiraling down to swipe with sharp claws at the black winged fusion. Startled, Yuri almost lost the fusion, flicking one wing to escape injury but taking a buffet to the head with a pair of heavy wings as the monster flew by. Part of him wanted to retaliate while part of him thought this whole thing was beneath him. What a contemptuous creature, he thought. What a pain in the ass…

Dark eyes narrowed as he looked up at the retreating monster, long taloned fingers flexing, and then suddenly he was a blur of motion; with a snap of his wings he was rising toward the ceiling, power forming like a mist in his hands and by the time he caught up to the monster, in barely a heartbeat, the energy crackled at his fingertips. The Seraphic Radiance reached out, thrusting his arms forward, catching the retreating winged monstrosity with taloned fingers and sending a shot of energy into the creature's body. The bird-like monster shuddered, reeling in the air at the apex of the chapel roof and then suddenly spiraled down, one taloned claw raking across the fusion's arms as it went by. Dark blood welled up and dripped down Yuri's arms and he spun around, hitting his feet on the ceiling and using the contact to push himself down so rapidly that he reached the floor before the monster. One bloody, clawed hand reached out, grabbed the creature's leg and pulled; the monster found itself being dragged across the chapel, and then pounded into the stone floor as Yuri levered himself in mid-air and pounded the large body again and again into the floor before letting it go to slump down against the stones.

The monster of the font, the dark apostle of the monastery, slowly righted itself, one wing bent at an awkward angle, no longer able to lift itself into the air, its long trumpet-like beak scared and chipped and Yuri nodded once in satisfaction.

"See? I told you," he said darkly, his voice resonating.

The winged monster wobbled to its clawed feet, bent wing draped crookedly over one massive shoulder; it raised its ugly head and piped a sound from his horn-like beak, and the world stopped for Yuri and Seraphic Radiance.

As the sun came up Koudelka took towel and soap and retreated to the stream and the small stone bridge. She paused at the base of the bridge, kneeling at the streamside and wetting the cloth. She passed it over her face, wiping away sleep and grime then lathered up the soap to wash. When she was finished, she leaned on the damp stones of the bridge. The wind was blowing from off the ocean and brought with it dampness and grey skies and she sighed; how she loved the grey and dreary atmosphere of the coastline of Wales; not like inland where the snow fell and people congregated like cattle. Breathing in, she caught the smells of manure and hay and the clean smells of farm and forest.

"Ah damn," she muttered, climbing up stand on the bridge, looking down on the greenish water of the streambed. She pulled the cloth from her ponytail, shaking out the tangled hair and running her fingers through it, pulling out burs and twigs while she thought. "He's such a bastard," she breathed. "I should let him go; let him find his own way … live or die."

The wind shifted, blowing her coppery locks around and into her face and she closed her eyes, raising her face to the sky and felt the winds moving over her.

"He is so lost; so confused." She looked back up the long road to the monastery, its spires lost in low lying clouds as well as graying smoke. How the old buildings had changed since she rode in the other afternoon. Was it only two days ago? And in two days, how much had that young man changed? She remembered the cocky vibrant youth whom she surprised in the upper loft of the caretaker's quarters and compared it to the half crazed, bewildered man who had transformed into a monster and terrorized the nearby village of Aberystwyth and killed her horse. That same young man whom she felt attracted to and with whom…

She touched her chest with one hand before pulling her hair back into its ponytail. Something was wrong; both with Yuri and with her and she needed to find out what it was. This did not feel wrong but it did not feel right. There was a stirring inside of her that made her feel uneasy. Rising to booted feet, she made her way back up the road, pausing at the bend where Yuri had laid a pile of stones to mark Roger's new house. If he planned to build such a grand structure, it could be years in the making. But did he have the time?

At the top of the road, she came upon old Roger sitting at the fire. The tent flap was blowing in the morning wind and the old man was huddled around the fire, the cook pot bubbling.

"Roger, any sign of Yuri?" she asked, taking a bowl of hot cereal.

Roger looked up at the monastery behind him and shook his boney head. "No; I fear something has happened to him. He's a troubled young man," the monk replied.

Koudelka nodded as she spooned hot food into her mouth, blowing on it as it scalded her tongue.

"It helps to blow on it before you put in inside," the old man laughed.

Koudelka nodded and looked past the fire to the monastery walls.

"He went in there, didn't he? Inside the monastery."

Roger looked up at her, seeing the lines of worry around her eyes and he suddenly understood. She had feelings for the crazy young man.

"I may be old, but I understand a few things; you may be angry with him but you also care for him, do you not?"

The gypsy turned startled eyes onto the old monk and then smiled, setting the now empty bowl down by the fire.

"Yes, unfortunately."

"Well then, child, is it all right for you to leave him alone? In there?" he asked, pointing with one bony finger at the dark stone walls.

"No, no it's not," Koudelka replied. She rose from her seat by the fire and strode to the old gates. The postern gate swung open with a shriek of protesting metal, and Koudelka winced. She looked up at the inner grounds, scanning the dim interior and wondering where Yuri could be hiding. Stepping through, she paused and noticed a stature for the first time. It stood by itself to the left of the main gate and was more bizarre in nature than were any of the other statuary in the monastery.

'Patrick certainly had odd taste in art,' she thought as she approached the huge piece. Formed of metal, it was a male torso on top of a pedestal, the arms raised above its head and holding… Koudelka frowned and climbed up onto the pedestal to read the metal plate: The Holy Blade Sacnoth. 'What the--?' Reaching up, she touched the strangely wrought blade and felt a surge of power in her fingertips. She pulled back and stared in amazement.

"Oh if we'd had this…" She reached up again and removed the sword from the statue's hands, gripping the oddly shaped weapon by the haft, hefting its weight. It seemed inordinately heavy for a brief moment, then lighter and lighter until the sword's solid bulk rested easily in her grip. "Magic indeed. Well, I wonder what you can do."

Hefting the sword again, Koudelka followed the path through the monastery's inner grounds, going around the fountain and heading in an easterly direction for the church itself. The sun had risen above the horizon an hour ago and the light filtered in through grey clouds to wash the smoldering ruins in orange light. But looking over the buildings, deceptively quiet in their haunted emptiness, she could see no movements, no flitting shadows of beast or man. Her gaze took in the broken spire, the once proud bell tower now a tumbled down ruin and the dome and spire of the smaller Lady Chapel to the south of the main church. Feeling oddly curious, she took the path to Patrick's mansion, but before she had taken a dozen steps, the paves shook beneath her, the ground swelling out from the chapel and lifting her off her feet, carrying her back toward the fountain and the arbor. She landed with a crash onto the stone steps just past the arbor, the blade Sacnoth miraculously still in her hands while stones, paves, bits and pieces of roof tiles, an arm from a statue, part of the gold work from the Lady Chapel, all crashed around her, falling like rain.

Painfully she sat up, brushing the stone dust from her as she climbed to her feet. And looking up she saw the church was – gone! The old church, the Lady Chapel, even Patrick's Mansion... all were gone, replaced by a crater over twenty feet in diameter and when she approached the crater's edge she hesitated, her mind reeling with confusion and not a little fear. There in the center was a monster, with green colored feathers and huge wings, one obviously broken; standing only a little off was Yuri – as the black winged fusion she had seen before. His eyes were scarlet and glowing with unsuppressed anger. In a flash of understanding, Koudelka knew that he must have been fighting this creature for quite some time; and he was not winning.

From the bottom of the pit, Yuri/Seraphic looked up, his eyes catching a flash on the rim; Koudelka stood on the edge, a sword in one hand and a look of concern worn on her face. He knew she would come down, that was her nature; he knew and didn't see any way to prevent it unless he took her out of the action himself. That was something he would not do. Turning once more, his sanguine gaze upon the verdant feathers of the monster, he smirked. Yes, perhaps between them both... she could distract it. But his own power had not conquered this monster; no, not even his most powerful attacks. The creature absorbed his magic; absorbed his physical attacks – save that one time when he had succeeded in breaking the wing. How could the two of them destroy this creature of the nether regions?

Koudelka scrambled down the steep decline to the bottom of the pit, dirt and pebbles cascading down with her and pinging off the back of the winged monster. It turned slightly, noting her approach and its wings fluttered in agitation. A sudden frisson caused Koudelka to throw herself to the ground, rolling the rest of the way to the bottom and settling against Yuri's feet, while the space she had occupied but a moment before was suddenly shimmering with a spell that jostled the stones and pebbles left there and shattered them. Koudelka took a breath, checking the sword still clutched in her hand – it was undamaged, and looking up she saw the black winged Yuri offering her his hand.

"We must combine our efforts," he said, and the voice both did and did not sound like Yuri and Koudelka shuddered. This was more the monster than the man, and she felt trepidation that this thing might turn on her when all was concluded here. But she nodded instead, stepping around him to stand at his shoulder, sword at the ready.

"Tell me what to do," she said.

The fusion eyed the strange sword that Koudelka raised in front of her in a defensive stance and a wicked smirk played across his mouth. "I will bring it to you," and he gestured to the sword, "and you will kill it."

Koudelka swallowed audibly then nodded, setting her feet firmly on the soil at the bottom of the pit.

"A-all right."

The fusion nodded, eyes glowing ethereally red, and gestured with one hand; a white light formed in his fingers and then covered them both. Koudelka felt herself suddenly full of energy, her heart beating strong and fast in her chest, her mind preternaturally alert and she gripped the blade Sacnoth a little tighter. She nodded once toward Yuri and then watched as he took off for the skies, his black wings carrying him swiftly upwards, only to flip around and steak back toward the ground.

The wind was cool chill on the fusion's face, his own heart beating a solid tempo that accompanied his beating wings. Ahead was the monster, its one broken wing held off to the side, while it gyrated in place, keeping itself too active for magic or normal fighting to do much damage. Something in its magical makeup used motion as a recuperative and Seraphic was going to use that motion to his advantage, for while it moved around, gyrating on its own internal axis, it was vulnerable to a non-directed attack. Seraphic beat his wings once more, speeding his downward flight that much more until he was now several yards from the monster in the pit. There stood Koudelka, his woman, her eyes bright and her stance perfect. He was proud of her strength and would now use that very strength against the Nemeton apostle.

Seraphic came up behind the apostle of darkness, its own wings and girth blocking its view; he slammed into the bird-like creature with his shoulder, causing it to spin around, its wings wobbling as it tried to keep from falling. The monster let out a call to its own power, bugling a thunderous attack of its own, sending a wall of sound and magic toward Koudelka – but with Sacnoth in hand, the young gypsy fended off the magic, using the sacred blade like a shield – and the magic passed her by, its force slivered and shredded and striking the ground behind her. Meanwhile Seraphic had returned to the monster, landing behind it and using one clawed foot in a sliding kick, knocking the avian monster aside, and then with a swipe of his clawed hand he set it to spinning faster. Grinning like Yuri the Radiance pulled back a fist and slammed it into the monster's belly as it passed, sinking it deep into the feathered gut but not puncturing it. The creature's magic instantly healed it, but the fusion was unconcerned; he now had his hands on the flying monster.

Gripping the creature's diminished legs, the Seraphic Radiance pulled, guiding it to the end of the pit. The apostle struggled, using its one good wing to keep it self-upright, but battering futilely at the fusion with its injured pinion. Seraphic's grin grew wider as he suddenly pushed, his own wings beating strongly, lifted them both up, above Koudelka, above the pit, above the monastery. The monstrosity still struggled in the Seraphic's grip, but strong claws dug in, refusing to release the monster. Struggling, together they arced into the cloudy sky, circling around the outer perimeter before heading back toward the pit and the waiting gypsy woman. Then they were headed down, faster and faster as the Seraphic's wings beat the air; spiraling down past the monastery gates with their iron spikes, down in an air screaming passage toward the pit and Koudelka; and in another moment, they collided with her.

The gypsy woman waited in the pit, her feet set apart, her hands gripping Sacnoth firmly. She watched with nervousness as the black-winged Yuri attacked the monster, spinning it around, then launching them both skyward. Craning her neck she followed their crazy flight as they swept past her and up over the monastery buildings. Then they spun away, the fusion grappling with the monster as it tried to free itself. Koudelka swallowed, saying a silent prayer, and wishing James were there by her side; then collecting herself she waited, catching sight of the twain as they circled back toward the monastery.

Koudelka bit her lower lip when she realized they weren't slowing down, but were coming much faster than they should have. Was Yuri going to crash into the ground with the monster? Would that do any good? How was she supposed to kill it if...? Watching in alarm now, she saw them heading straight toward her and she lifted up the sword. In the next second, her world exploded around her as the monster and Yuri collided with her; a mindless scream was coming from somewhere in front of her, then all around her and she closed her eyes to escape the reality in front of her- for Yuri had flown rapidly down, and skewered the monster onto the holy blade Sacnoth. Koudelka found herself splattered and drenched, as blood and ichor, flesh and feathers exploded upon contact with the blade. The monster's scream of pain and death echoed in the monastery grounds, in her ears, and in her mind.

Koudelka dropped the sword, letting the remains slid from its unmarred surface, the oddly formed blade yet shiny and clean in the aftermath of the destruction. Koudelka felt a sudden fatigue wash over her as the magic withdrew, leaving her sore and achy and not a little disgusted by the results. She stood head to toe in blood and ichor and a fleeting thought asked her if she would ever be clean again. Across the pit, the monster that was Seraphic Radiance came to a delicate landing on the bloody ground and shimmered, warping back into the young fighter she knew – Yuri. Suddenly it was too much for her and the fighting and the blood and the smell... she slid to her knees amidst the oozing remains and began to cry, hot, smelly tears bubbling from her eyes and leaving pink streaks down her cheeks.

Yuri came to her side, pulling her up into his arms and held her close, her sobs growing stronger now and shaking her body.

"It's all right now, Koudelka. It'll be fine; I have you. I'll protect you – always."

Yuri pulled closed the tent flap, securing it with twine before returning to the cot and the bundle that was Koudelka. He had taken her to the river and together they had washed her, Koudelka at first refusing to let him touch her, but then relinquishing when she could no longer hold the cloth. Yuri wiped away the blood and gore that he was responsible for bathing her in and each wipe with the cloth made him wonder what he thought he was doing. He used her as a weapon; well, actually used the sword Sacnoth. But why?

'Okay, so the Seraphic was getting his ass whomped, not like it hasn't happened before ... well not to him anyway... but still, why did I use Koudelka that way? Ferchristsakes she's a woman – she shouldn't have to do that sorta thing,' Yuri chided himself then realized as he finished washing the gypsy woman and wrapped her in a bit of blanket, that it was more Seraphic's doing than his. 'Damn him anyway. I let him get too much ahead of me. But if I hadn't...'

"Come on Koudelka, I'll take you to the tent; you can rest there." He picked her up and carried her up the road, her feet dangling off his one arm and her head resting against his chest. She felt so cold, even though he wrapped her in the blanket, her skin was cold and her face... so pale. Laying her on the cot in the tent, he went back out to ask Roger to make some tea and then returned. Now watching her shiver in the blanket, he wished he could do something more for her. Finally, with a concerned frown, he stripped his clothes and, grabbing the other blanket from Roger's cot, climbed into the cot with her, pulling her close before putting the blanket around them both.

"Yer freezin', Koudelka," he said softly.

"Mmm," she said softly and he wasn't sure it was a reply.

Yuri pulled her tightly to him, his arms wrapped around her and his cheek resting against her hair, his breath ruffling her bangs.

"I'm here, Koudelka, I'm here."

In the middle of the night, the wind died down for a bit and the sudden silence woke Koudelka. She felt warm, and she felt constricted. Opening her eyes, she was greeted with a warm, golden face, long eyelashes shading the cheekbones and a shock of dark hair. Yuri was holding her closely, much too closely, but he was warm, and she was warm and she liked it. Moving her shoulders only brought Yuri's strong arms closer around her and she felt herself stifled in his grip. She nudged him with her knee, pressing against him somewhere but he didn't respond.

"Yuri," she whispered. "Yuri, you're crushing me," she said and her breath washed over his face, ruffling his bangs. That produced a reaction, but not one she expected. Twin red orbs opened, glowing beneath those same dark lashes, before fading slightly to the rusty color of tree sap, and his arms tightened, threatening to crush her.

"Y-Yuri, please," she said softly, her voice a rasp of breath.

"Oh, oh," Yuri suddenly realized what he was doing and released her, pushing back and falling out of the cot. "Sorry, sorry," he muttered, bewildered and tangled in the blankets.

Koudelka could not stifle the giggle that bubbled up inanely and she smiled down at the fighter as he scrambled in the blankets, climbing to his knees.

"Are – are you feeling better, Koudelka?" he asked, pulling up the blanket then letting it fall in a rough tumble around his knees. He leaned over the cot and looked at her, face to face, as she leaned out to him as well, and their lips met briefly.

"Ah- ah," Yuri breathed then laughed softly. "So, you forgive me?" he asked.

Koudelka blew softly on his bangs. "I suppose so. But don't do that again, all right?"

Yuri smiled and chuckled. "Okay, whatever you say, babe. I—" he hesitated, looking down at beautiful woman leaning close to him, her breasts partly covered by her arms, goose flesh forming in the cold night air and their breaths mingling. "I love you, Koudelka."

"Yuri, there's something..."

"I want to make love to you," he pursued, and Koudelka laughed softly.

"Since when is that something new?" she replied and Yuri's rough hand took her shoulder and pushed her back to the cot, her head resting on the pillow.

"I'm going to make love to you until the sun comes up," he said as he climbed back onto the bed, covering her with his warm body and laying kisses as his first line of assault.

"Yuri, I think you need to know...

"I know everything I need to know, babe, to make you sing like a canary." He wasn't paying attention to her words, but let his own mouth work its hungry way down her neck, along her shoulder and pausing at the point of her shoulder to look up at her as she reached up and took a handful of his hair. _"What?"_

"_Listen_ to me, Yuri."

Yuri pulled back, settling his arms on either side of her, resting on his elbows and kissing her breasts, suckling gently each rosy nipple before looking up at the dark-eyed gypsy.

"I'm pregnant, Yuri," she said softly and waited for Yuri's reaction.

The young fusionist blinked dumbly for a moment, the words worming their way into his brain before he responded.

"Yer... what? How'd you do that?"

Koudelka grinned, letting the hand full of hair she had held onto fall free from her fingers, and running those same fingers down his chin, noting the soft stubble of early beard.

"It takes two, Yuri," she said with a smile.

Yuri looked dumbfounded for a moment, and then chuckled quietly. "I know _that_," he said with a drawl. He squinted in the dark tent, his eyes boring holes into the woman beneath him. "I'm just wonderin' is all."

"Wondering what?" Koudelka asked, as she trailed her fingers down his chest, circling the small buds of his nipples, and trailing down a little further.

"Whose kid is it?"

"**_What_**?"

"Mine," Yuri grinned, "Or Seraphic's." His response stopped the slap from landing as Koudelka instead grabbed a handful of shaggy brown hair and yanked. "Okay, okay," Yuri said through muffled laughter. "But I wanna make sure here so," he planted his lips on her mouth, sucking in her breath and fully exploring the limits of her mouth with his tongue. When he pulled back, both of them breathless, he smirked.

"Yuri," Koudelka said with a smile, "I'm already pregnant. You can't change that."

"Yeah, well, if you aren't, I'm gonna make damn sure you are when I'm done with ya."

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A/N: Reviewer Comments:

Aegis: Well, it wasn't _that fast! _After all, dew formed, that takes time. And Yuri's not **_that_** fast... oh, wait, he probably is, but not that way... oh shoot! Shutting up now!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

A/N: I don't own Shadow Hearts, Shadow Hearts II or Koudelka.

A little more Yuri angst as we prepare for the next stage in the story: some humor, some Koudelka being very wise, and Old Roger being – well, Roger. What can I say - he's unique! And no, it isn't over yet folks; Yuri's gotta fix his messes yet! This one is long, and I apologize in advance. And yes, there are some Shadow Hearts II moments in here.

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January 1900. A winter wind was whipping around the ruins of the Nemeton monastery and a spattering of rain washed over the grasslands, filling up postholes and ditches with cold water. On the first, there had been snow and the spots that still clung to the grass quickly melted into mud. Dark black clouds ran low in the sky, their bellies heavy with rain and neither man nor beast was abroad in the grasslands. At Nemeton however, it was different. The ruins of the once proud monastery were black with rain and the pit that once had been the church and chapel was a quagmire of mud, its thick black ooze a trap for more than a few monsters who had strayed into it. Outside the ancient wall lay the old cemetery, its stones cracked, broken, fallen down, and abandoned except for the tall stone of Saint Daniel Scotius. This lone monument now wore a scratched message: James O'Flaherty, Rest in Peace with Your Loved Ones, each word painfully carved by Yuri at Koudelka's instructions. Inside the cross-shaped marker, they had laid a book that James had carried around with him. James would not need it where he had gone. Now, in mid January, the marker looked more forlorn than usual, its pitted stone dark with wet. Yuri sat leaning against it facing out to sea, for just beyond the small plot was the cliff face and down it was a sheer drop. The sea crashed and pounded the coast of Wales every day, but today that storm tossed expanse was throwing up waves that shook the rocks beneath him and Yuri found it fitting. For today, he had to leave. Today he had a journey to complete and he did not want to go.

Behind him, down at the turn of the road, was Roger's house and laboratory. A little over a year in the making, with Roger keeping him busy night and day gathering the items needed to build his fantastic machine. How he expected to send Yuri back in time Yuri could not fathom; furthermore, Yuri hoped it was a lie, a penny dreadful like the ones he had seen as a kid. But this was no tale told around the fire, and Yuri passed his hand over his rain-moistened face, rubbing the fatigue from sleep-deprived eyes. Sleep. That was something he lacked in abundance these days, with Roger's tinkering and Koudelka and the twins…

The twins: the two bright spots in his hazy days. Two little bundles that… was it only six months ago they were born? Six months ago that the first little dark-haired head had popped out of the womb and screamed bloody hell? His memories of that event, that day, were as hazy as usual. Why he couldn't seem to remember it… well, it could have been that stash of whiskey found in the rubble beneath Patrick's ruinous mansion. Roger and he had made quite an in-road through Patrick's collection of liquors and spirits, Yuri finding that it did him little harm – except for that one time he was so drunk he had climbed up on the monastery walls and was walking along the spikes, singing some bawdy tune he'd learned in China. He had nearly impaled himself when he suddenly lost his drunken balance and fell, but managed to turn his fall into a limp somersault and landed on his back on the grass below – the rush of blood in his ears was only supplanted by the screaming deprecations of Koudelka, who finally gave up and yelled curses at him mentally. The resulting pain as she discovered a new talent, telepathy, had Yuri rolled into a fetal curl, his knees clutched to his chest. That was the last of the whiskey, Koudelka hiding the remains, and Yuri missed it.

The fighter rubbed his chin, fingers pausing over the day-old stubble peppering his face and sighed. It had been so long now, since he'd had a coherent thought; he knew his days were wrapped in hazy confusion, he knew it because of Koudelka's reactions … and Roger's. He felt that the world was still spinning on its belly, long since tilted out of whack by god-knew-what and him caught in its perpetual turning and lost in the swirls around him. Much as he missed having a drink now and again, he often felt he was still drunk, the world through his eyes just a little blurry, just a little dizzy and just a bit confused. And he often saw that same confusion mirrored in Koudelka's eyes.

Koudelka - his lover, the mother of his children. 'Man, that thought just boggles the mind,' he thought and then smiled ruefully at the idea, his own thoughts a jumble of disjointed memories. The last time he sat here, a little over a year ago, he saw visions of dead people walking around: Edward, James… and that girl with the silver hair … Charlotte. He wondered what it was about that girl that fascinated him so; was it her innocent life so cruelly snuffed out by the guards? Or his own stupidity in not giving Koudelka those damned letters? Or something else, something about her appearance? He mused silently and watched the dark clouds as they scudded across the lowered sky.

She did remind him of someone, he concluded, shaking his head. The wind whipped past him and howled like a banshee through the nearby ruins and Yuri shuddered at the sound… a death coming… that's what Roger had said the night his twins were born; that sent Yuri into screaming hysterics about Roger and his know-it-all bullshit and once Koudelka started yelling with the labor, he'd fled the house. Fled to the grasslands, his shouts and curses a challenge to the howling wind; and when the storm clouds gathered, bringing rain and lightening, he stood on the cliff overlooking the coast and waved his fists in defiance. When it was all over, he'd dragged himself back to Roger's home, drenched and hoarse with shouting, barely coherent, barely sane. Roger had given him mulled wine and wrapped him up by the fire, clucking like a hen over his stupidity and Koudelka – she watched him with glowing eyes from her bed, two small bundles lying on her belly.

He huddled in the blanket, knees pulled up to his chin, eyes a miasma of red and black and a look of total confusion on his face. Koudelka sighed from across the room.

"Would you like to see your children, Yuri?"

Yuri nodded and climbed to his feet, crossing the small bedroom in three strides, to kneel at her bedside. Two small bundles wrapped in blanket scraps, their red faces no longer puckered in distress but relaxing in sleep, were nestled next to Koudelka and she pointed to one, nodding at Yuri.

"Your daughter, Yuri." She took up the little bundle and handed the small living package to Yuri whose eyes suddenly grew as large as saucers. Koudelka showed him how to hold her, cradling her head, and then let him explore the little girl in his arms. He pulled back the flap of blanket covering her face and stared in awe at the little face; long lashes shadowed round cheeks and there was a swirl of brownish red hair on her head. One hand pulled free of the blanket, the small delicate fingers grasping at the cold air and Yuri put his finger in her palm and smiled as that same little hand closed around it, holding the huge finger in her tiny palm. Yuri could feel tears forming in his eyes, splashing down his cheeks like rain and there was an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. He looked up at Koudelka.

"Wh-what's her name?" he asked.

"Why don't you name her?"

Yuri's look of shocked delight spoke volumes to Koudelka. Here was this young man, capable of absolute destruction, with a heavy burden on his heart and soul, and the very idea of naming a baby, _his_ baby, filled him with joy.

"Uh, um, I – I have no idea what to call her," he stammered. "You, why don't _you_ name her?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah," he said and handed back the little girl, settling her comfortably next to Koudelka. "Who's this?" he asked and pulled back the blanket corner of the second baby. Almost instantly, a little fist came out, waving about and hitting Yuri's fingers. Heheh, she's a feisty one," he laughed softly.

"She's a he, Yuri - your son."

Yuri again wore that shocked expression on his face, the one that spoke so many words to Koudelka's mind as he picked up the bundled boy, flipping the blanket away from his face and looking down at…

"Halley," he said. "His name's Halley."

Koudelka blinked in confusion, and then nodded. 'It's not like I had a name picked out…wonder where that came from?' she thought.

"All right. And for the girl, how about Katherine?"

Yuri glanced down at the little bundle and nodded. "Yeah, Kath—Katie. Yeah, I like it. Halley and Katie." Halley squirmed in his arms and he looked down to see little eyes open and staring at him, remarkably focused and a strange mixture of green and gold. Yuri shuddered suddenly, blinking away the vision of a fourteen year old boy with a floppy hat and shaggy hair aiming a slingshot at him. "He looks a lot like you," Yuri remarked.

Yeah, he had too - little odd colored eyes, and shaggy hair. In the last six months the babies had grown, and kept Yuri up all hours of the day and night… and now, as the new year progressed, he could see the differences in them. Halley took after Koudelka with his oddly reflective eyes, eyes that seemed to follow you across the room without moving, and with his occasional flares of baby temper. But the one with the horrible temper was little Katie. Yuri scowled at the sky, remembering when she had her last screaming fit: bad enough when Halley moved things across the table or floor, but Katie … Katie puzzled him. In a fit of temper, the little baby had pulled at him – he felt the tug of his power, his fusions, and it was as if she were reaching out… Yuri found it disturbing, but then shrugged, realizing that's probably what he had done with his own father: the mark of a harmonixer baby.

Shuddering with the cold, Yuri climbed to his feet, shaking out the mud from his coat, the old-new coat Koudelka had brought back on her last visit to Aberystwyth; it was a trench coat, dingy brown with stains on it already, but it was his, to take the place of the beloved coat he'd worn for so long… the same dirty brown coat he'd worn when he traveled to Shanghai, when he'd saved that old adept at nothing adept in Kuihai tower, the same one that pretty blonde girl had snuggled against night after night while they traveled… the same one he'd worn the night he buried her… Suddenly Yuri stopped in his tracks, his feet about to enter the Nemeton monastery grounds.

"Now where the hell did that come from?" he muttered. He shook himself, then rubbed his face with his hands, blowing out air between his fingers. "Shit, I am so fucking tired," he commented then looked up at the dark monastery. The grounds were shadows within shadows, and he hesitated before crossing the threshold into the inner court. He didn't have any weapons with him, and as tired as he was, he didn't feel like a fight either. Glancing around, he turned sharp inside the wall and climbed into the caretaker's wing of the building; the doors and walls had collapsed into rubble with Seraphic Radiance's attempt to slay the Apostle of Darkness ... 'that damned upside-down bird thingie' as Yuri called it… the explosion of power had punched a hole through the church, the chapel, the inner grounds and destroyed many of the outlying buildings, including Patrick's mansion and the library. There hadn't been much left of the caretaker's quarters, but they had made it a home, for all of six months.

Since Patrick's mansion and, for the most part, any livable rooms had been demolished by Seraphic Radiance, the three found themselves suffering through most of the winter in the old caretaker's quarters. Yuri's first job was laying the foundations for Roger Bacon's house, with many a muttered "Man I'm sick an' tired of buildin' this damn house!" but otherwise handling it swiftly. Koudelka took the caretaker's rooms into hand, throwing out the awful paintings of sinking ships and drowning victims, preferring blank walls, and checking the stored foods in the kitchen to remove unwanted poisonous plants left by the caretakers. With cots set up, one in the main room for Roger and one in the back storage room for she and Yuri, the little rooms began to take on a more cheery note. Roger had salvaged as much as he could from Patrick's library, sighing sadly at the lost volumes that went up with the manse, and so spent his time designing both his new house, and the wonderful machine that Yuri had mentioned: his time machine. Yet, oddly enough, he was silent on the matter of the Émigré manuscript – whether he had found it or not, neither Koudelka nor Yuri could pry out of him.

Yuri laid the foundation in stones, quarrying the blocks from the monastery itself, refusing to adz stones if he didn't have to and Roger, once his plans were drawn up, stood by supervising. He directed Yuri where he wanted the stairs, the library, and the living quarters – although those were sparse and narrow – and Yuri protested every step of the way.

"Look, you let me build this damn place and you concentrate on building that machine," he growled more than once, but that simply got Roger talking about the machine - the wonderful, intricate, delicate and decidedly nearly impossible-but-I-can-do-it-since-I'm-a-prodigy time machine.

By the coming of the March winds, Roger's house had progressed to the foundation and one large room and a storage room, and Yuri was ready to kick the old monk in his scrawny behind. One blustery afternoon he and Roger came nose to nose, Yuri towering over the diminutive older man and threatening to put his fist through Roger's face before the younger man snorted and stormed away, leaving a trail of scuff marks where he kicked the ground. Koudelka, feeding chickens in the makeshift coop set along the inside wall of the caretaker's quarters saw the harmonixer's passing, and the mental storm cloud over his head, and wondered what had set him off this time. As the weeks turned into months, Yuri and Roger had exchanged heated arguments, ranging from the layout of Roger's house to the color of the stonework being laid. Yuri thought it was Roger being a pain in the ass while Roger could not convince Yuri that he was right no matter what. To Koudelka it seemed silly.

And looking back at it now, Yuri thought it was pretty silly too. He'd gotten his ears bent back more than once by Koudelka's sharp tongue, and he began to realize that she could filet him with very little effort, so he backed off, letting Roger have his way. It turned out to be easier in the end. Kicking in the wooden door he had propped closed, Yuri entered the old kitchen; gone were the cooking pot and irons, taken down to Roger's home, and gone the majority of supplies. A few barrels were stacked in the corner, but those could stay until needed. Dust had crept in with the wind and rodents, covering the stone flags with white powder that also showed small prints in their hundreds: insects and other things scuttling across the dusty floor. With a smirk, Yuri stomped across the floor, sending a few cockroaches scurrying for the dark corners.

"Heh-heh, serves ya right," he laughed softly and then jumped down the stairs to the hall door. This too was missing, taken in a salvage operation that stripped a good deal of the usable items from the quarters, including beds, cupboards, furnishings, and cooking utensils. The hall outside the kitchen was dark, more shadows within shadows and he paused only a moment before taking the few paces that left him at the caretaker's doorway. Inside were stacks of crates filled with books and manuscripts. Other crates with equipment were stacked along one wall. Roger's house would eventually be large enough to accommodate the clutter, but not yet, no, not for a long while yet. And Yuri, for all his comfort being with Koudelka, had no intention of finishing the house to Roger's specifications. He'd be a hundred years old by then.

Yuri stood in the room where once a crackling fire had burned, and where, a year and a half ago, he and Koudelka had shared a meal of soup and bread and where he'd been poisoned because he'd eaten and she hadn't. There was a curl to his lips when he thought of that night, with the exotic gypsy woman teasing him into cooperation by refusing to heal him... well it didn't take much coercion on his part as he _wanted_ to help her, but that night he knew he liked her. Well, more than like, he remembered. He had been fascinated by her for some reason, and no matter what happened that night, he knew he would like her, cherish her, protect her, as he had not done for ... Blinking he found himself staring into the dark fireplace, the dogs and irons long removed.

"What the hell is with you, Yuri," he asked himself aloud when he realized he'd been standing there for some minutes. Something nagged at him, something important and he couldn't remember what it was. The crazy quilt pattern that had become his world was ragged along its edges and he felt, in spite of his desire to settle down with Koudelka, that there was something left undone.

"But didn't I do everything? Didn't I save her? And save the world and make everything right?"

Yuri took a seat on a stack of boxes, running a hand through his hair, mentally noting how long it had gotten and to have Koudelka cut it first chance they got. Long hair and monsters don't mix he thought, and then put his elbows to his knees, resting his face in his hands. This whole day had been one crisis after another with first Halley breaking into a fever, then Katie, and between their screams of distress and mews of pain, Koudelka was exhausted. And Yuri himself had his hands full as well, restraining the damage a feverish Halley had inflicted on their rooms; his talent for sending small objects flying was getting annoying, even if he was only six months old. And Katie – well Katie worried him. She was definitely his daughter, and maybe more. He had felt her tugging at him more than once. He had paced their small rooms most of the day, holding the little girl in his arms, murmuring nothings at her in Russian and Japanese and humming a lullaby he remembered from his own childhood. The fretful little tyke had burbled in her fever and then opened surprisingly bright eyes and wailed; the sound followed instantly by a piercing pain in Yuri's head and chest as one of his fusions, a lesser darkness one, had shifted, and almost, _almost_ left him! Katie would bear watching in the future, he thought.

With a sigh and a yawn, Yuri sat up, stretching his arms and back until he felt the joints pop, rotating his neck and shoulders to loosen them. He had worked hard, continued to work every day, but he hadn't had a good fight since –

"Shoot, not since Seraphic took out that damned bird thingie," he muttered. "I need a good fight. Too bad I don't have any weapons... or do I?"

He rose from the stacked boxes and wandered toward the back room. A little off the main quarters, this room had been filled with paintings before Koudelka cleaned it up. They had used it for storage after moving into Roger's house and he seemed to remember seeing a pair of knuckles left in there the day they moved. He pushed open the door and stepped inside. More crates and barrels greeted him, and Yuri wondered if Roger would be as big a pack rat as Patrick Heyworth. During their many sojourns through the ruined monastery, Roger had picked up items of interest, and Yuri had contributed his fair share. Looking at the pile of miscellaneous stuff, he thought perhaps he had contributed more than his share: one crate was full of brooches, pins, bits of jewelry, whatever Yuri had scrounged in his wandering. Not that any of it was valuable, he thought, fingering the odd bits and pieces. Mostly just junk, he thought with a sigh. Then something caught his eye and he moved through the dark stacks of crates to the far side of the room; a long shadow was leaning against the far wall and Yuri reached down and picked it up.

The heavy weight of it jogged his memory: the holy blade Sacnoth. He'd held this once before, sometime. And more recently, it was held by Koudelka. He ran his fingers along the beaten edge, careful of its razor sharpness, and touched the cold metal. The blade retained its cold, never warming as Yuri handled it. He hefted it, raising the blade high, then let it over-balance and swing down, crashing into a wooden crate.

"Ah damn," he cursed then grinned as the tinkle of broken glass, and the smell of liquor, revealed to him Koudelka's hiding place. "Ah Koudelka-girl, so this is where ya hid the whiskey," Yuri exclaimed and set Sacnoth aside and pulled an unbroken bottle from the box. He pulled the wax from the neck and putting the bottle to his lips, let the liquid flow into him, its warming tang turning into a blaze in his belly.

"Ahhh, now that's good shit," he said and wiped his mouth. He settled down on a nearby box and took another swig.

The stones were cold beneath him and their jutting points poked into his back. Cold, uncomfortable, and hungry, Yuri groaned, flinging one arm up over his eyes. A throbbing ache was in his head and his mouth was a god-awful mixture of dry cotton and burnt wood. Something about drinking too much whiskey came to his mind briefly before flying away on the wings of the pounding headache. With a moan he rolled over, feeling his stomach roil with threatened dry heaves.

"God damn," he muttered and opened bloodshot eyes to peer around. Blinking back blurry confusion, he focused on the stones in front of him, then looked up to see a tall wrought iron gate, black and imposing, rising into a grey and dismal sky.

"Where the fuck _am_ I?"

A haunted sound echoed behind him and Yuri scrambled around to face his own nightmares. He was in the graveyard, _his_ Graveyard; that horrible place he hadn't seen since… since… he rubbed his face with his hands and sighed.

"Damn it," he growled and climbed wobbling to his feet. He looked around the grey expanse and sighed. The grave markers were still on their hillocks: to the left both Light and Wind, and to the right Fire, Earth, and Water. The markers looked odd, cracked and aged somehow since last he was here. With a shrug, he stepped down onto the path leading to the other hill and the Dark grave marker. He had stopped at the verge of the hill and was wiping away the cobwebs on the marker when he heard the sound again, like voices. He looked at the far gates, one closed and dark, the other leading into a mausoleum with the four hated masks hanging like demented sentries.

"Those guys," he muttered. "I wonder if it's them that brought me here."

He turned toward the mausoleum, pausing at the bottom step, looking up at the four terrors of his youth: the four masks of his nightmares. One was female, yellow blonde hair tied back in a pony tail with a blue ribbon; another was an old Chinese man, a glass monocle in one eye; the third was a yellow haired man, clean faced but rather vacuous and the fourth... he stood frozen, staring at the fourth mask: delicate female features, eyes icy blue like the fjords and with long silver-blonde hair hanging in loose plaits tied with a blue bow. Yuri stared so hard his face hurt and the masks never moved, never spoke, merely floated like pale ghosts, their features calm in the grey light of the graveyard.

"What the fuck _is_ this?"

A sudden creaking sound alerted him and he spun around; the gate to his right opened up on its own, the green grass beyond beckoning him. He shrugged and, leaving the masks, climbed the steps to the gate and entered.

Ahead lay the grasslands of his youth, the tall and gnarled oak with its galls and limbs just right for climbing. The backdrop of an orange sunset brought a smile to his lips and he relaxed, suddenly remembering those late summer evenings on the hillside with his dad... his dad... his – good-for-nothing father who ran away. No, wait, he didn't run ... Yuri shook his head, confusion warring with the pounding in his brain. He remembered; he knew he remembered – his dad hadn't run away, he'd gone to Shanghai. He simply hadn't come back. He'd been killed by that mongrel dog, Dehuai.

Yuri looked up at the gnarled branches of the oak tree and took a few steps before jumping, catching the lowest branch and pulling himself up, throwing one leg over the limb and straddling the branch. He leaned back against the tree, swinging his legs on either side and watched the sunset. 'Dad an' me, we always watched the sunsets together', he thought. 'He'd lift me up into this ol' tree and he'd sit below, and tell me stuff. Like what it means to be a man ...' Yuri chuckled softly. 'Like I don't know what _that_ means,' he thought. Of course back then he didn't; that's why when dad didn't come back – Old memories, long buried and forgotten, the hurt forgiven, surfaced in his mind like the warm summer breezes that still blew in his mind. His dad was always strong, always brave; but there had been those few times he'd overheard them, talking in the main room after he'd gone to bed... talking about Japan and China and Shanghai. He'd never connected the pieces – until later, when that strange girl had saved him. The one from the train had rescued him from...

Yuri sat up suddenly and fell off the tree branch landing with a hard thud on the grass of his memories. The image of the silver haired blonde ... the same face that looked back at him from those damned masks... and the little girl in the monastery.

"What the hell is going on here?" he yelled.

Roger Bacon stopped inside the caretaker's quarters and looked around. Behind him, Koudelka was continuing down the dark hallway heading for the stairs. She was armed with Life-Drinker, the blade from the chapel, and a small torch was in her left hand, giving off a ghostly light. She was about to climb the stairs when Roger called her back.

"I'm not sure, but I think he's in here," the old monk said. "I hear sounds coming from the back."

Together they passed through the darkened quarters, Koudelka's torch flashing briefly on boxes and barrels. They were turning toward the back room when they both paused, hearing Yuri's voice shouting, and Koudelka ran ahead, sword at the ready. She was unprepared for what she saw when she flung open the storeroom door. The walls lined with boxes and barrels was the same, but in the corner, Yuri had found the liquor and was laying across some nearby boxes, totally passed out, a bottle of whiskey still in his lax hand. Instant anger suffused the gypsy woman's face, turning her complexion dark. She felt the deep-rooted anger at Yuri burning up inside her, fueling her power and Life-Drinker began to glow in her hands.

"You son of a bitch," she growled. "You lousy bastard," her voice was a deep growl from within her. Yuri stirred slightly on the boxes, the bottle sliding from his fingers and crashing to the floor, spilling whiskey onto the dirt.

Roger came up behind her with the crashing of the bottle and seemed worried, his thready voice weaving through Koudelka's growl as he pushed past her to check on Yuri.

"Is he all right? Is he hurt? Oh, oh my, he found the whiskey; bad boy, bad boy and you didn't share it," Roger was nattering, one part of his mind on waking the drunken young man and another part watching Koudelka seethe across the room. There was tension in the air and he could tell she was close to losing it. They had awoken early that morning with Yuri not in the house; Roger had looked everywhere around and they decided he had to be in the Monastery, and possibly in trouble. Koudelka had placed the twins in their crib, wrapped carefully in blankets, and then the two of them had run to Nemeton. But to find him here, drunk; Roger knew that Koudelka's temper was riding very close to the edge. He pulled on Yuri's arm, shaking him sharply.

"Come on child, time to get up," he said.

"Leave him, Roger," Koudelka said softly, and Roger felt a prickling on neck.

"Now, Koudelka, child, don't do anything..."

"I said, move," Koudelka replied and Roger looked up in time to jump out of the way. Bright white energy had formed in Koudelka's free hand, energy so brilliant it burned Roger's old eyes like fire, but he knew it wasn't fire, especially as the air in the small room grew suddenly and intensely cold.

"Koudelka, child –"

Koudelka did not respond. She raised her hand level and let the power go as a blast of icy energy arced across the small room, covering Yuri's barely moving form and exploding like sheet ice over him. The drunken young man's scream brought a smile to her lips.

"I left your children alone, defenseless, to find you, Yuri. You'd better be on your knees when you get back," Koudelka's voice was a whispered threat and she turned, Life-Drinker clanging against the doorjamb, and left the monastery.

Roger helped Yuri move, climbing slowly to his feet; icy rime cracking and scattering like shattered glass as he broke the spell. Yuri's teeth were chattering and Roger, although sympathetic, could offer no consolation. Yuri, his mind spinning, made no comment. He looked around and then staggered to the door before emptying his stomach's contents onto the dirty carpet in the hallway.

"You could have shared, Yuri," the old monk said, his waspish voice reaching Yuri through his noisy heaves. The old man had seen much in his extended lifetime, and family squabbles could be nasty; he waited for Yuri to finish before giving him a shove toward the exit doors. "Come on, I'll walk back with you."

Yuri shook his head, waving a hand at Roger. "I'm – I'm all right; just drank too much." He thought about his rude awakening and looked down at the diminutive monk shuffling beside him down the hall. "Is Koudelka really pissed?"

"Well, you might want to find some sort of compensation before you return or, as she suggested, approach on your knees."

Yuri reached down and tapped the bald head of the little monk. "You think that would help?"

Roger shrugged inelegantly, one side of his robe falling over a boney shoulder. "Couldn't hurt."

They made their way back through the kitchen and eventually out the broken wall of the monastery. Making their way slowly down the road Yuri sighed.

"I don't know what's happenin' Rog. I – I had a dream or somethin' back there. I was seein' things that never happened. Or maybe they did." Yuri put his hands in his back pants pockets and walked slowly, letting Roger catch up as the road dipped down sharply.

"Things that didn't happen, eh? Well, maybe they did and maybe they didn't, Yuri. Koudelka says you're the focus of a lot of temporal disturbance."

"Yeah."

"Do you honestly believe that my marvelous machine can help you set things right?"

"Yeah."

"And Koudelka?"

"Yeah... ah, hell, I dunno Rog," Yuri looked back at the little monk, a lopsided grin on his face. "You ask too damn many questions."

Koudelka waited inside Roger's house, her back to the door. She had the little wheeled pram that Yuri had gotten in Aberystwyth and she was rocking the babies quietly back and forth in the main room. There was a warm glow from the cook stove and the smells of ham and eggs cooking, and Yuri felt his stomach growling, hungry. But the look on Koudelka's face when he entered told him supper might be a long time coming for him. He considered for a moment doing as she had suggested, crawling in on hands and knees, but then thought better of it. He was a man! Men did not crawl! Purposefully, he entered the room and crossed to the pram, flipping back the blankets to peer down at the sleeping babies.

Katie was sound asleep, one finger thrust between pouting lips, sucking softly. Soft peach fuzz hair curled on her head, shades of brown and red mixed with a touch of blonde. She looked positively angelic. Next to her was Halley, and he was not asleep. He opened bright eyes to stare at his father, almost as if he knew that his dad was in trouble with mom. He gurgled slightly, burped a milky belch then closed his eyes to sleep. Yuri watched them in their slumber for a long minute before closing the blanket once more and turning to Koudelka.

"Look, I know yer mad at me, an' you've got every right. I didn't go lookin' for trouble, nor did I go lookin' to get drunk. I found it by accident. I was only walkin' around; I couldn't sleep. I was actually lookin' for a weapon, something to go hunting with… but when I broke the box and found the whiskey, well…" He watched Koudelka in silence for a moment, wondering if she was ever going to speak. Her eyes were narrowed at him, a shadow lying across her brow from the fireplace and he couldn't tell if she was frowning. He hoped she wasn't. "I - I'm sorry, all right?" he said at last and waited, one hand resting on his hip, the other gesturing helplessly at the nothing in general.

Koudelka remained silent, never taking her eyes off the young fighter and wondering if she should accept his apology or not. It irked her that he would pull such a stunt… he was older than she, yet he acted more like a younger brother. He stood before her now with a look of boyish defiance, yet that same young face... how did he look so young! She sighed and nodded.

"All right, I forgive you. I should know by now that trouble finds you. But if you ever do that again..." she threatened.

Yuri grinned and the smile brightened his face. In one stride, he was beside her, taking her into his arms and kissing her, his lips scouring her face.

"You need a shave Yuri," Koudelka muttered as his cheeks rasped hers.

"Heheh," he laughed. "I need a new razor. An' I could use some dinner. Any chance of that?"

"Well, it's breakfast, and I suppose I should feed you or you'll whither away and die on me," the gypsy said with a half suppressed smile and crossed to the stove.

When the three adults had finished their breakfast, Roger waved them off to use the table for his notes, and Koudelka and Yuri took the pram to the bedroom. Yuri stood over the stroller, watching in silent awe as the two little bundles of life breathed slowly in sleep. Koudelka fussed about the room, making the bed before grabbing a bundle of clothes for mending; Yuri was nothing if not hard on clothing. As she sat stitching, Yuri paced around the room.

"Don't you have something you could be doing?" Koudelka finally asked when Yuri had completed his fifth circuit of the small room.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, stopping by the bed and rubbing the back of his neck. "Did I ever tell you about my dad?" he asked suddenly.

Pausing mid-stitch, Koudelka looked up. Yuri's expression was dark and his eyes looked worried, as if he were gnawing on an old bone.

"No, you didn't mention him. Why?"

Yuri kneeled at her side and looked up at her golden eyes before continuing. "I had a dream when I was drunk in there. It reminded me of things... things I never said or did. I wanna tell you so I don't think I'm going crazy or something."

"I think it's too late for that," she said softly, smiling.

Yuri didn't respond. "Ya see, my dad – he died in China, almost to the week that my mom was killed. He was murdered by Dehuai, in Shanghai. I met that same guy later on; met him and killed him. There was me, and an old adept, an' ... and a girl." Yuri stopped and chewed his lower lip.

"Go on."

"Charlotte reminds me of that girl, only I don't know who that girl is. I just keep seein' her, and hearing her voice. And I saw her last night, in my dream. A face – a mask really, an' she shouldn'ta been there."

Koudelka waited as Yuri paused again, her sewing forgotten in her lap.

"I think you'd better start at the beginning... if you can," she said.

"Yeah, me too."

The meager winter sun had set and brought with it the crash of lightening. Winds picked up once more and rain lashed the Welsh coast, but those living in Roger's house were snug and warm, a fire crackling in the grate and stew bubbling in the pot. And Yuri was talked out; voice hoarse from telling the tale as he knew it, and as he remembered it, he now sat on the floor by the fire, spooning food into his mouth and feeling tired beyond his years. Roger had joined them for the meal and sat nodding sagely through the bits and pieces Yuri told about his time in China, the battle with Dehuai as he remembered it; but that too was troublesome for the listeners as Yuri remembered several different versions.

"You say that you didn't get to the train on time, and the girl died in Shanghai," Roger enumerated, ticking the points off with his fingers. "And you also say that you did not get onto the train because you didn't have the money. But you distinctly remember boarding without money and rescuing someone, possibly this girl you keep remembering."

"Alice," Koudelka supplied.

"Yes, yes, Alice. Alice. Such a nice name," Roger muttered.

"Cute," Yuri commented.

"Yes, I'm sure she was," Roger continued. "You also tell us that you remember Shanghai and that you died there, swallowed up by a monster. Or that you killed a warlock there."

"Yeah, I killed him," Yuri said, squinting into the fire. "But it's so confusing. I don't know what really happened. Either I killed him or I didn't. He killed my dad - I know that. He also killed mom. But then, I can clearly see him dying at my hand, and falling down dead cuz he was stupid." Yuri added, spooning the last of his stew into his mouth and chewing loudly.

"When I first met Yuri, my impression was that he was the center of some great changes; something was changed or altered that has changed the world he lives in. It hasn't changed for us, of course," Koudelka commented, "but for him it has."

"But which memory is the right one?" Yuri asked, looking from Koudelka to Roger. Koudelka shrugged and the old man shook his head.

"That might be impossible to know. You said I built this time machine and you used it."

"By accident," Yuri interjected.

Roger nodded sagely. "Yes, by accident. And something you did here changed what you knew?"

Yuri shrugged. He grabbed the fire iron and poked at the logs, sending sparks dancing up the flume. "I did. But Rog, I remember seein' differences while I was in London. An' when I got here, I accidentally killed Koudelka." He looked up at the beautiful woman sitting in the chair by the fire. "Sorry. I didn't mean to," he said quickly.

Koudelka waived it off. "Could my death have been that important? It doesn't seem possible."

"Well, you were that damned voice that nearly drove me insane... telling me to go here, protect that person, and help that village..." Yuri looked into the fire, the crackling flames dancing in his amber eyes. "I hated that; an' it always hurt. But if not for that voice, I wouldn'ta been there on the train, or in Shanghai or... or at the end of the world –" Yuri blinked and chuckled softly. "I sound stupid."

Koudelka remained quiet in her chair, the words Yuri spoke reverberating in her mind like bell chimes. 'Somehow I spoke to him across all those miles. And helped him. But why?'

"Well it seems obvious to me," Roger said finally, into the silence, "that you came here, killed someone who was important, and the events have rippled into your own time. You yourself have affected your own future and the future of the world with one careless act."

Yuri's head snapped up and he stared at Roger. "It's not like I did it on purpose. An' it was your stupid machine that got me here in the first place!" he snarled.

Roger raised one hand to calm the tide of Yuri's anger.

"I am not disputing that. I am stating facts. You existed in your own time, and somehow the events here have affected the future. What you need to do is to correct the errors."

Yuri tsked, and thrust the poker into a log in the fire, shattering it and sending sparks flying.

"God damn it what do you think I've been doing?" he yelled, then dropped the poker and pulled up his knees, sulking.

"You saved me this time. You kept yourself from accidentally killing me when we fought in the bell tower," Koudelka offered.

"What else has changed Yuri? Do you know?" Roger asked.

Yuri refused to look at either of them, instead letting his eyes focus on the flames in the grate. He knew he'd changed things even more with Koudelka and the babies. 'Man, how did I let myself get this far into it,' he wondered. But at the same time, he had no proof that he'd _not_ been Halley's dad to begin with. How _else_ had Koudelka known to talk to him in China if he hadn't just told her?

"Yuri?" Koudelka asked.

The fusionist sighed, chewing on his lower lip.

"I gotta go back and fix the rest of this. I – I don't know what else to do. I'm not even sure I'm doing it right. And," he paused and looked at the only friends he had in the world. "I don't know _what_ I'll do when I do fix it. I just know I gotta."

Koudelka rose from the chair and joined Yuri on the floor by the fire. She sat close, putting her arms around his shoulders. Like a little boy, he collapsed into her embrace, resting his head on her breast, eyes closed tightly.

"I made such a mess of things," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It always happens that way; seems like I just walk into it. Edward died; he shouldn't have. An' you died... but I saved you this time. I kept my promise." Koudelka's hand moved up to his hair, fingers lacing through the long locks and caressing him. "And you an' me... " he shook his head slightly, "we're not supposed to be either. Like this I mean. I don't know why... maybe it's that Alice girl I keep seein'." He sighed and sat up, trading places with her, pulling her into his arms instead, holding her tightly.

"I've always been alone; ever since my folks died. I made out okay, learning to steal to survive. I ended up running with a gang... did I ever tell you that? Yeah, me, a punk," he said with a little laugh. "I was a strong arm, learned to fight. Dad taught me some when I was little, an' I put it to good use. But hey, it put food in my belly. When the voice started talkin' to me, I thought I was going crazy. The demons and monsters and such that I fought... mostly for the hell of it, but also cuz of my mom. I hated what those things did to her an' to me – well, it made me even stronger. I got powerful in ways I never dreamed. An' I got the Seraphic Radiance." He paused, looking down at Koudelka.

"All I ever wanted though was to find my Dad; to have a family."

"To have someone to love?" she asked.

Yuri laughed softly, not much more than a breathy sigh. "Yeah. I loved my folks a lot; my dad was strong and powerful, and mom was so beautiful. I missed 'em so much. I would do anything to be with them."

"Even die?" Koudelka's hand reached up and took one of his, her fingers caressing the rough pad of his palm.

"Yeah, probably. Cuz see, no matter what I did, I was scared of my power, scared of turnin' into a monster. An' even after, even when I knew that my powers were useful, I just figured I'd end up dead on the road somewhere. I've always lived hard and fast; my life has been one series of fights after another. I just wanted to live a normal life..." he chuckled then and the rumble in his chest echoed in Koudelka's ears. "Can ya believe that?"

She nodded. "Yes, and you have that now, don't you?"

Yuri looked down at the gypsy woman and smiled. "Yeah."

In the background, they could hear the clank and bang of Roger working in the main room. He'd left them when Koudelka sat down with Yuri and the noise was a welcome interruption, for it meant Roger would not be bothering them any time soon. Yuri pulled Koudelka onto his lap, turning her around to face him, raining kisses down onto her face, his tongue tickling her eyelashes as he brushed past them and down her nose, gently nipping the tip. Koudelka laughed softly.

"You have a one-track mind Yuri."

"Yeah, I know."

Roger continued to tinker on his machine throughout the year, building it with Yuri's physical assistance. The platform was set in the center of the main room, nothing more than a wooden floor set on bricks; the treadmill to power the device was set across the room, cables crisscrossing the floor and creating a hazard to anyone walking around. Yuri added on another room to the little house, moving the kitchen into it when the machine grew to take over the main room and, in spite of his grumbling, he also made another for the library, carting in the books and stacking them on the shelves as he built them. Yuri had stopped protesting the constant carpentry, growing more and more silent as Roger worked on the machine and by late summer, Roger began testing. The initial tests were messy and the results horrific as pots were sent through the machine to return a few hours or days later thoroughly crushed.

"If you went through now, you'd certainly not survive," Roger commented as Yuri swept clean the platform after one disastrous test.

"Not like I really wanna do it anyway," Yuri muttered.

"What was that? Yuri, surely you're not thinking of changing your mind?"

Yuri rose to his feet with a pan full of crushed pot and looked at the wise little hermit.

"Yeah, I am. I mean, what the hell am I doin' it for? Everything's fine. I got a wife and kids. What more could I want? I love Koudelka an' I don't wanna leave her. And the babies, hell they're mine – _mine_! Do you understand?"

Eyes wide, Roger watched as Yuri turned to take the refuse outside. "This is not good, not good at all," he said quietly.

Yuri poured the crushed ceramic into the box by the back door, pausing to watch as Koudelka hung wash on the line. The day had proven clear with the winds still blowing but not as hard; the cries of sea gulls spoke of fishing boats trawling off the coast as well and Yuri wondered if he should run to Aberystwyth for fish, as it would make a welcome change from their winter long gruel. With the summer had come squirrel hunting and fishing to supplement their meager stores and Koudelka and Roger both had a vegetable garden growing in the lee of the monastery. With a grunt, Yuri hefted the dust filled box and took it to the cliff, tossing it over the side and watching as it smashed with a satisfying explosion of clay dust, then returning to the house, he snatched up a spool of twine and headed out.

The cliff along the monastery was nearly impossible to climb, but Yuri had found a small set of stairs carved into the north-west face; when he mentioned these stairs to Roger the old monk had related how the early monastery would have had concourse with Ireland and a boat ramp would have been set in the cliff face. Yuri had taken to that stair as his access to the ocean and fish. Why buy fish when I can get them myself, he'd argued more than once. So today, with the trawlers out on the Irish Sea, he knew there'd be fish for the taking. He took the path around the outside of the monastery, skirting the wall and ducking back inside through the ruins of the church. He then took the narrow stairs two at a time until he reached the bottom. The Irish Sea had scrubbed and scoured the cliff below the monastery until it was pockmarked and black. He took off his coat and boots and, setting the ball of twin on top, stepped onto the edge of the stone dock and fused. A moment later, the power of his fusion released, he stood swaying on the stones as one of his water monsters. Man Dragon's long tail and lithe body hesitated a moment only before diving smoothly into the ocean's waves, submerging.

The ocean was cold and dark, but the constant surge was only visible on the surface, below was quiet. Man Dragon swum with strong strokes, following a movement in the shadows beneath the distant fishing trawlers; there were schools of fish moving far below any of the nets, and something else as well, one or two larger shadows that Man Dragon quickly identified as swordfish. Eyes now focused on food, he moved down, each swish of his tail and stroke of his legs taking him further and further below the surface. The swordfish was now a mere one hundred meters away and oblivious to the swimming blue death approaching, and when it finally caught the motion of Man Dragon's tail it was too late. With a spurt of speed, the water fusion leapt forward, his clawed hands reaching out and grasping the large crescent shaped caudal tail fin as the swordfish turned to flee. Wiggling and struggling, the fish tried to escape, but the fusion pulled it back and grabbed the dorsal fin, bringing the swordfish close to his chest. Moving his arm off the tail fin, he now encircled the fish's belly and squeezed; the swordfish struggled even more, but the strength of the grip around its middle was inexorable, and in a minute, the swordfish was dead. Now, satisfied with his kill, the fusion flipped around, turning on his tail. He passed beneath the overhead trawlers, swimming back to the stone dock.

With the waves tossing onto the dock, the fusion now added the swordfish, before pulling himself from the sea. Once on the stone lip, Yuri released his fusion and shook off the water. Shivering a little, he grabbed up his coat, slipping his feet into his boots, and then wrapped the twin around the swordfish's tail, giving him something to hold on to. Then with a grunt, he hefted the large fish and climbed the stairs.

Not wanting to lug the heavy fish all the way around the wall and down to road to get to Roger's house, he instead took the path back through the monastery, crossing the church ruins and circling the Seraphic-made crater, taking a shortcut through the inner grounds. Crossing behind the arbor, he paused long enough to adjust the fish on his shoulder, tightening his grip on the twine; it was only a moment, but it was long enough for the smell of the large piscine to permeate the grounds. Soft scurrying sounded behind him and Yuri looked around, seeing in the shadows beneath the building eves many pairs of bright red eyes.

"Ah damn," he muttered, then swinging around he moved back from the arbor and descended the stairs toward the open gate. Behind him, he heard the soft pad of many feet.

"Shit, you are not getting this fish," he hissed at the pursuing shadowy monsters and bolted for the gate. The soft padding sounds became snicking noises as nails and claws clicked on stones. And another sound began as well, a low snarl that echoed in the usually silent monastery, rising up to a yowl of intent and demand. Yuri, running pell-mell for the gate, now found himself zigzagging through a melee of cats - black cats, brown cats, and a handful of ghostly white cats that all had one thing on their feline minds: fish.

The gate was fast approaching and Yuri dodged one insistent black cat's swipe at his leg, forcing him to spin around and lash out with his boot at the persistent puss. A soft thud and a yowl later and Yuri was back on the path to the gate with yet a dozen cats in pursuit and more waiting at the gate.

"Ah damn, _damn_; you are _not_ getting this _fish_," Yuri growled and made a quick dodge to the left, out distancing the brown cats behind him before making another spin and kicking out to knock a large white feline ghost. His foot passed through the white wisp and connected instead with a black cat and then he heard the concert of yowls increasing. A backward glance told him he was in bigger trouble as the cats behind him had paused, hunkered down, tails raised and their eyes focused: they were summoning magic, while the cats ahead were doing the same.

Yuri stopped in his tracks and scowled. This was not turning out the way he planned. It was supposed to be easy: go fishing, get fish, come back, show off big fish to Roger and Koudelka, collect reward for doing a good job, maybe even a kiss. But now...

With magic forming behind and in front of him, and a big fish on his shoulder, Yuri decided that he would take the offensive. Settling the swordfish more securely in his grip, Yuri leapt forward, kicking out at the forward phalanx of cats, and then he swung the swordfish down and smacked the beast from his path, sending it skidding across the flagstones and into another group of cats who suddenly went mad with the smell of fish on their companion. Undeterred by the melee now happening on his left, Yuri continued forward, past the bronze statue in the corner of the yard and now a handful of feet from the gate, swinging the swordfish like a piscine cricket bat and scattering the cats to both sides, covering each cat struck by the swordfish with deliciously fishy smells that had the other felines now attacking them. In this way, Yuri reached the gate and slipped through, tossing the swordfish back onto his shoulder and running down the road, his feet thundering in the dirt and the broken snout of the fish banging against his back.

A few minutes later Yuri arrived back at Roger's house. Roger was sitting on the floor in the main room, planning papers scattered about him and Koudelka stood in the kitchen just off the main room. Both looked up as Yuri kicked open the door and swung around to show off his prize.

"Ah, you've brought back the bacon," Roger said with a dry smile.

Yuri, showing off the swordfish proudly, frowned.

"It's _not_. It's a fish. A _big _fish," he said.

Koudelka stepped out, inspected the swordfish with its broken snout, and scarred skin. Bits of hair were stuck to it and there were signs of claw marks on its flesh and on Yuri's trousers.

"It's got claw marks on it, and so do you. And hair."

"Yeah, damned cats. But we've got enough fish for a few days anyway," and Yuri grinned affably. "Do I get a kiss for my hard work?"

Koudelka waived her had at the puckered lips that Yuri offered and laughed softly. "Put it in the kitchen; you can prepare it."

"Ah shit," he said and picked up the fish once more. "I hate guttin' and scaling these damned things."

"Beats chickens," Roger replied from his place on the floor.

"An' yer no help," Yuri said as he retreated to the kitchen.

That night after supper Yuri and Koudelka retired to the bedroom, the twins bundled in blankets in a large crib. Yuri stopped to look them over, his eyes filling with such love that Koudelka could feel it across the small room, his energy burning like flames. When he finally joined her, they cuddled on the bed, his back against the wall and she wrapped in his arms. They didn't speak, instead letting the warmth of the coal lump in the heater permeate them, and Yuri's breath ruffled Koudelka's hair.

"Roger will continue experimenting with the machine tomorrow, Yuri. Are you ready to make your trip?" she asked finally, one hand holding his against her chest. She felt his fingers curl tightly, grasping her fingers painfully.

"No," he replied.

"Why not?"

Yuri moved and kissed the top of her head, nuzzling her hair. His lips followed the fall of her hair to her ears and he licked at the ear lobe, tickling the inside with his tongue.

"You don't want to go?" she pursued."

"Ugh," he grunted.

"That's hardly an answer, Yuri. What about all your preparation? All of Roger's work?"

"I don't care," he said petulantly and blew softly into her ear.

Koudelka sighed. He was more interested in a relationship with her than in fixing … whatever it was he had to fix. The current of movement around him had slowed, but not ceased and even if he could not see it, she could, and she found it disturbing. She tried another tack.

"Have you remembered anything else before you came here? About your world or your time?

Yuri frowned, she could feel the muscles pulling on his face through her hair, and his whole body grew taught. He was resisting answering her and getting angry about it.

"Yuri, you are avoiding this whole thing, aren't you? Why?"

"God damn it," he growled and pushed her off his lap and rose from the bed, pacing the small bedroom. "You just won't let it lie, will you? You're gonna pursue this until you run me outta here. Why? Why the hell do you want me to go back there? Why do you want me to leave?"

Koudelka moved to the edge of the small bed and put her feet on the floor, taking the time to put her shoes on before standing. This was the crux of the matter now; she could feel it. Something inside her was moving, awakening and she could feel it responding to Yuri. And it terrified her. She wanted him to stay, of course she did; he was the love of her life, the father of her children and, in spite of his boyish behavior sometimes, the man she loved most dearly. But there were other factors here, other lives affected by his decision to stay or to go. And one of those lives belonged to him; a woman he loved but yet did not remember. The cycle of changes around him may have slowed, the tide moving back as he corrected his mistakes, yet the damage had been done and was not corrected yet. He was here, where he did not belong, and much as it pained her, with a woman he didn't belong with.

"Yuri, don't you remember telling me about what happened in London that night? When you found out we had lived together and had children? And how confused and hurt you were until you sought out Roger Bacon? You said you had made a mistake…" she began.

"More than one," he muttered from his place by the warm coals.

Koudelka nodded. "Yes, more than one; and you needed to fix those mistakes in order to set things to right. People died because of one little error on your part. People will still die if you don't set things to right. You and I both know that as much as I love you, you do not belong with me. You belong with someone named Alice; do you remember? You spoke her name."

Yuri kicked at the legs of the crib before recollecting himself and turning around to face Koudelka. She now stood in the center of their small room, her hands clasped together at her middle and her eyes fairly glowed with power and purpose. He liked how she looked just now, all crackly with power… oh, not the power she had before, when he first met her. Odd, he thought, I can remember that suddenly. We were here at Nemeton. And old Rog helped us to get her away from Simon. 'Yeah, I remember that,' he thought then blinked, turning his gaze away.

"But why does it have to be me? Why am I always the one to rescue the girl? Or save the village or – or save the world?"

"Because, that's your job," Roger said from the doorway. He had opened it a mere crack and stood listening to the couple, waiting for the moment to interrupt.

"You nosy old fart!" Yuri cried and threatened to punch him before he stopped and swung open the door further. "What the hell do you want?"

"I came to let you know I'll be ready for more experiments tomorrow actually. I've made more adjustments to the machine. And I couldn't help but hear, Yuri."

"Yeah, eavesdropping an' all, must make you popular with the ladies," Yuri muttered.

Roger smiled, his face blossoming into dry wrinkles.

"I never noticed," he replied. "But I can answer your question."

Yuri looked down at the little monk and sighed.

"What question."

"The one about why you have to do the saving. It's quite simple really. Each of us is born with a purpose in life. Some are directed from their very birth to do good, others to do evil. Some reach their destination by long and circuitous roads, discovering their power and purpose after many years of travail. You, Yuri, are one of those. You must walk the path of good; you have too much power not to. But that doesn't mean the path will be smooth as silk; oh no, for the path of righteousness is lined with briars and brambles and many a sticky wicket."

Yuri reached down and cuffed the monk.

"Get to the point," he said.

Roger shook himself, straightening his robe before continuing. "I am saying that you must do these things you find yourself doing. Good and evil battle it out every day, and only a force for good, a strong advocate, will help to keep this world from tumbling down the brink into chaos."

Yuri frowned, thinking a moment, his head beginning to hurt. "Yer fulla shit, Rog," he said, "an' yer giving me a headache."

"Am I indeed," the old man said with a smile. "Well, perhaps you need to exercise those brains of yours more often. Like now. Try thinking what this world would be like if you did not use your power to make things right."

Yuri's frown ground down into a scowl, his eyes growing dark.

"I know what happened. My parents died, Shanghai burned an' a girl died cuz I couldn't save her. If she's gonna die anyway, why bother?"

Koudelka's quick breath of surprise caught Yuri's attention.

"You can't mean that," she exclaimed. "Yuri, you sound so selfish. And you told me once, don't you remember, that she didn't die. You saved her. You saved the world from Simon. I don't know what that all means, but I know you did it. The cycle of change is not going to stop just because you have decided you would rather be with me. Change will continue, rippling outward to affect lives you never personally touched. Are you saying you'd willingly sacrifice those lives just to stay with _me_?"

Yuri did not answer, instead looking across the small room to the crib with his sleeping children. Two small lives depended on him, depended on his being here to raise them and love them, and he didn't want to go haring off somewhere and not be able to get back to them. He walked to the crib, kneeling down and gently pulled back the blankets on the twins. He watched them silently, staring at them as if to engrave their images into his mind. Katie had her pinkie finger thrust between pouting pink lips and sucking gently, while Halley had turned slightly and had one chubby arm thrown back over his sister's chest as if protecting her. His face was soft in sleep with no sign of the power that he had already demonstrated with his temper tantrums and Yuri felt a tug at his heart watching them. There was no way he would abandon these children.

"All right. But I'm coming back here to be with my kids. So don't try to argue me out of it," he said.

Testing and experiments continued until early October before Roger finally felt confident enough to send Yuri though the machine. The entire time Yuri had grumbled, telling Roger to "Hurry it up all ready" which only earned him a lecture on the dangers of time travel and meeting himself. Yuri's usual scowl became deeper each time that topic came up until finally, the morning the machine was ready he turned to Roger.

"I already know the dangers of meeting me, Rog. That's what I gotta do. Meet me; kill me. So don't give me any more fucking lectures – I've had enough. I'm going to get ready an' I'll be back in a few minutes."

Roger watched as Yuri stomped away, and quietly chewed his lower lip. This was the first time Yuri had mentioned what happened earlier, and now he worried that the outcome would not be what the young man desired. With a sigh, he turned back to his machine and adjusted the settings until a scuffing sound behind him caught his attention.

"Koudelka?"

The young woman had entered from the kitchen and paused looking up at Roger's wondrous machine. Far from being some boxed machine as she had seen in towns, this machine was a part of the house; cables ran along the floor and tubes were strung along the walls and ceiling, and the central platform, still not more than boards set on bricks, was now surrounded by some kind of console with even more wires and cables coming out of it and leading to a small treadmill set along one wall. But above, suspended from the ceiling by chains was a huge iron lantern, the same one they had salvaged from the church before Yuri had blown it up, and inside was an amber crystal, its multifaceted surface catching the light from the windows and sending rainbow shafts washing down the walls and onto the floor.

Roger shuffled over to the platform and sat on its edge before patting it with his hand in invitation to Koudelka to join him. She hesitated only a moment, looking back toward the bedroom door before crossing the expanse of the main room and sitting on the platform next to the old monk.

"You're upset, I can see that. What is bothering you child?" the old man asked.

Koudelka shook her head, letting her long hair fall into her face, shading her from Roger's raven eyes.

"It- it's nothing really. I just feel that it's getting closer and I don't know what to do," she said hesitantly, her voice faltering in the end.

Roger took her hand in his and held it, patting her knuckles softly with his boney fingers.

"You're worried about him leaving, aren't you. Yes, I know, you love him. And you will miss him. But we must have faith, child, that all will be right in the end."

Koudelka turned to face the elder monk and he could see tears sparkling in her lashes.

"Ah, you're crying my dear; this is no time for tears. Yuri must see us strong and willing to stand by him or he will falter, and possibly fail. This must not happen; too much is at stake for him to fail."

"I know," Koudelka said with a sniffle. "I'm the one that convinced him he must go, but Roger, I don't want him to. I want him to stay with me and raise our children. He loves me; he _loves_ me. No one has ever loved me," Koudelka stopped, the tears now falling down her cheeks and she reached up to swipe them away.

Roger pulled her closer into an embrace and he could feel her shoulders shuddering in suppressed tears. This would never do; should the young fighter find that his lover was regretting his decision, he would renege – refusing to do what had to be done to return events to what, in his confused recollections, Yuri knew was right.

"Koudelka, child," he began and offered her a sympathetic look, "we must hold back our tears for now. Yuri will be back in a minute and he must see us as a strong front. We must, for him to set right what has been made wrong."

"But he won't be back, Roger."

"We don't know that," the old man began then bit his lip realizing he almost told a lie. "Well, that's not quite true now is it? He'll be back, but we won't remember him. Sadness and pain are a part of the world, Koudelka; a part of God's plan that teaches us how important life is so we won't squander it."

Roger held her for a few minutes more until they heard Yuri's boots coming from the bedroom and then they separated, Roger allowing Koudelka time to collect herself to face Yuri one last time.

Yuri had retreated to the bedroom and scoured it for some tough fighting clothes; he located a pair of canvas trousers, much patched and that had seen better days and changed into them, tsking at their poor condition. He next looked for weapons. He knew that he had some claws remaining from their many scavenging trips into the monastery and he dragged the box of miscellaneous items out into the middle of the room. There was his dagger, and a pair of water claws, a couple of brooches and Koudelka's cat's eye. He took the dagger and thrust it into a sack on the bed before shoving the box back under the bed. He finished dressing quickly and grabbing up the brown trench coat Koudelka had bought him and the bag and left the bedroom.

He found Koudelka waiting for him in the main room. At the far corner, Roger stood at his console, fiddling with something while Koudelka stood like a nervous bride, her hands clasped tightly at her breast. He could tell she was nervous about his leaving, probably missed him already. He crossed the room to her side and pulled her into his arms, kissing her firmly on the lips, his own mouth rough on her soft one and one hand caressing her bottom.

"I will come back, Koudelka," he said and his voice was thick with emotions. He wanted her so much, wanted to take her here, right on the platform; make love to her again and never let her go. But he had promised that he would do this – fix the damned mistakes from last time. And then, _then_ he would return to his love and his two children and never leave them again.

Koudelka wrapped her own arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He felt so strong in her arms, so steady in this crazy world. Yet she knew he was the most volatile of them all; his own mind was awash most of the time in visions and memories he could not place – his sanity only clear when with his children. He tried to hide it behind the work and the stupid jokes, but his escapes into Nemeton throughout their time together was more to escape what he was and what he had become than to actually scavenge items of interest. She clung to him with the hope of capturing just a little of his strength, and to convince herself that his strength was all they had right now. The current of events was moving again, swirling around him like storm winds off the coast, and she breathed a heavy sigh, knowing she'd never see him again in this life.

"I love you, Yuri. Please be careful," she said into his shirt. The harmonixer chuckled and tilted her chin up with his finger, bending down to kiss her.

"I will come back to you, I promise," he said, then let her go to climb up onto the treadmill. "All right Rog, let's get this shit over with."

Roger nodded and flipped a switch as Yuri began to run on the treadmill to build up power. His legs pumping, his heart beating – Yuri felt the surge of adrenaline that always presaged his going into combat. His eyes caught sight of Koudelka, standing by the platform, a ray of rainbow hues catching her and making her glow as if with her own energy, and Yuri felt a tug in his heart for the gypsy.

'I will come back to you, Koudelka. I'll be there when you need me most, I promise," he thought as he let the act of running become a prayer for his future.

Finally, Roger called out and Yuri leapt from the still moving treadmill, sprinting up onto the platform and waiting for Roger to pull the switch. The old man turned and nodded once to him and Yuri grinned, one fist raised in defiance as the energies once again arced from the crystal and exploded around him, sending him into oblivion.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17:

A/N: Interregnum over! Onward no, still don't own 'em. Rated "M" for graphic violence, suicide (to all intents and purposes – and not recommended by any means!) and Yuri's usual foul mouth. Muchas gracias to all who read and reviewed. You inspire me, you truly do! Some confusion will no doubt occur in this chapter with multiple Yuri's and fusions, so sorry, but time travel is the pits. And remember, we're trying for a happy ending here, so keep those fingers crossed.

Shanghai was burning; the city was a wall of flames and the dead and dying lay like ash on the ground. The tallest building in the city rose like a beacon above the flames, its roof shattered and broken, the lintels cracked and torn; on the roof, once marked in symbols most arcane, a creature of unimaginable power stood, feet almost but not quite touching the profane material. Head held high, crimson wings spread wide, the God of the Earth that, until this day, had been protector and nurturer, was now the destroyer; summoned to this plane by greedy men, selfish men, men upon whom the Lord of Demons would now wreck vengeance. Clawed fingers flicked energy waves, suddenly raging across the expanse of human habitation, and flames burst forth like crimson blossoms, flowers laid on the altar of worship for this, their destroyer. A sense of joy filled the Manifested God, and crimson wings raised high, lifting the Deity above all the death and destruction, into the cold night air. A flick of a feathered head and the ground faded away, falling beneath Her like a dream, like a minor annoyance; like the small voice crying in His mind. What was that now? Ah yes, the human child... Godly attention turned inward, the Eye of Awareness to the Inner Depths plumbing the dark recesses where the child waited, screaming. God reached out and touched the child, tapping it ever so gently, flinging it across the expanse of the darkness and watched, waiting for the child to awaken, to become aware once more. The child looked up with amber eyes, sad eyes, looked upon the face of God, and screamed. And God smiled.

Time was non-existent; the passing of seasons did not matter, time and distance were things of the past. There was only here, now; and the devil in the dark, the God that was his torture, his fusion, and his failure. He tried; oh, how he tried. But he didn't have the strength, the will, the power to hold onto the strands of this God's mind. Like sand spinning away through his fingers, the awareness of the God slipped past him and when it looked at him, became aware of him, engulfed him in its mind... Yuri felt his world spinning away, plummeting down, down, down into the depths of despair. He had lost; he had failed. He would become a monster and his screams of pain and terror echoed in his mind until he reached the end of his plummet and splattered himself on the bottom of his despair.

Darkness was his ally, his friend. Here, there was darkness, there was nothingness. Here he could lie in dejection, in failure and moan the unfairness to the universe. Here he could die.

But death did not come - no, not right away. Darkness caressed him, despair leeched out of him like sweat, and laughter; dark, sardonic laughter that clenched his guts and twisted his soul. The laugh he knew - knew it from those dark days after his mother's death when he wandered China in a haze of pain and fear and fever. The laughter of his father, his voice twisting and gouging until the pain he felt was wrenched away, torn from him like a severed limb. And he looked up to see himself, standing in the shadows beneath that great oak tree on the hill behind their house and he felt bereft, as if in losing a limb, he'd lost a brother. But then the darkness overwhelmed him again, the bright eye of the God above him, pushing him down, and down once more. His last thought before being finally engulfed, was how much he hated himself, and how much his father must hate him for his failure.

"_Deeper, dig deeper, idiot. You could not match your father... didn't protect your mother... You're responsible for everyone's misery!"_

Fear and self-loathing.

Fox Face... lying shit.

"_I've always been here, you just never noticed. If you can catch hold of this soul, you will gain ultimate power. Power to make gods throughout the universe tremble. Believe in yourself."_

Love and purpose.

Dad.

"_I did my best, dad. I did my best after you and mom... I have friends, and a woman who loves me... I tried really hard!"_

Acceptance.

That's me.

"_Yuri is not weak! He's a fighter!"_

Redemption.

Wh-who's that?

Awareness flooded Yuri's mind, awareness and a dim sense of having been through this once before. Didn't Seraphic turn his mind to mush already? Didn't he lose to that God in Shanghai? Didn't he have to face his own worst nightmares? Alone, devoid of friends, family, and help - alone, he faced the God of Shanghai as it washed over him like water, filling him. No dark corner left un-illuminated by the radiance of the Mind of God, and no secrets, no fears left unrevealed. Yuri stood in awe of this creature he had tried to tame as it looked down at him, and then swallowed him whole.

The floor of the monastery was cold and dusty and Yuri sneezed. His head ached with a pounding he would have traded in for just about anything, including a broken leg. He sat up and sneezed again, spreading the dust with the breeze. He looked around and found he was behind some crates in the monastery attic, and a glimmer of hope began to warm his heart. Maybe this time...

A sound came from across the room, and Yuri climbed to his feet to peer past the boxes. The attic looked much as it had when he arrived the first time: stacks of crates and barrels placed haphazardly along the wall, dust, dirt, and moldy straw lying on the floor. And across the room, lying against the only exit door was a young man, blood running down his side and pooling at his hip. Yuri blinked and then caught sight of movement in the far shadows; the monster that he'd fought before, the werewolf. That meant that _he_ would soon be here.

A quick assessment was all he could afford – a wounded man with a gun was not somebody he wanted at his back, but he had to take on that damned monster before it could attack Plunkett again. Grinding his teeth, Yuri reached into the pouch on his belt and pulled out the dagger. Then, with a feral grin, he leapt over the crates and landed with a puff of dust a few feet away. The monster, sidling closer to the injured Plunkett, spun around, growling at Yuri's sudden appearance, its sharp teeth and fangs glistening with furious spittle. Yuri's grin blossomed into a laugh, and in the next instant, he leapt to the attack. A quick jump brought him within arm's reach of the werewolf and a downward slash with the dagger. Switching hands, he flipped the dagger to his left hand and brought his right elbow up to slam into the monster's head, and followed that with a left knee to the gut. The creature started to move back and Yuri surprised it yet again, leaping up and spinning to slam his booted heel into the monster's side and pushing him back.

Behind him, Yuri could hear Plunkett's yells and realized he was trying to get Yuri's attention.

"You'll need bullets; the damned thing is hard to kill," Plunkett called. "Use my gun."

Yuri ignored him for a moment, finishing his spin with another turn and plunging the dagger into the monster's chest. The blade struck the breastbone and the handle shattered, jarring the fighter a little before he slid back toward Plunkett. The injured man had raised the gun, pointing unsteadily at the werewolf, but Yuri skidded to his knees at the younger man's side and plucked the gun from his hands.

"Let me; I'm a lousy shot, but I'm probably better than you right now," he said and, taking the gun and the proffered bullets, he climbed back to his feet and ran forward. He paused a few feet in front of Edward, gun raised with both hands and aiming at the monster who was inexorably approaching, the dagger blade still stuck in his chest and blood dripping from the wound and from his claws; Yuri squeezed home the trigger once, twice and on the third bullet the monster began to shiver, its limbs quaking with reaction. Yuri kept firing, emptying the revolver into the werewolf before tossing the gun away as he run forward once again. A handful of feet away he went into a slide, scissoring his legs and catching the creature's limbs, tripping it. The werewolf crashed to the floor, an explosion of dust and straw filling the air at his impact and Yuri followed through by rolling on top of the monster, grabbing it by the neck and twisting. The monster struggled, but Yuri was stronger than he had been just a year ago and his grip was like iron; in only a few seconds there was a dull snap as the neck broke and Yuri let the werewolf fall to the floor, a small puddle of blood oozing out from underneath.

"Damn, you're good," Edward said from his place on the floor and Yuri turned to look at the man he knew was Halley's father. That very thought had his guts suddenly twisting and he crossed the dirty floor to kneel at Plunkett's side.

"You all right? You gonna live?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess," the younger blond replied, his face ashen but his eyes bright.

"Good. So, Plunkett, I'm sorry for this," Yuri cocked his right fist back and landed a hard punch to Edward's neck, cutting off air and blood. The adventurer sagged against the wooden door, unconscious and Yuri waited, his ears pricked at the sounds on the roof. Yes, he's coming. And so was Koudelka. She'd be here any minute now.

Above he heard the scrambling of boots on the roof tiles and a bang as one of the roof spikes broke, falling away to the ground below. A shout also echoed in the attic and he knew Koudelka was all right, if frightened by her near fall. And in that instant he felt _his_ presence. Looking up, he saw a shadow in the rafters, and the movement of a coat. In the next instant Yuri Hyuga leapt from the rafters and landed on the attic floor, raising more dust and straw with his arrival.

"Who are you?" he asked, staring at the messy man rising from the floor. He was obviously a ruffian and had hurt the other man; Yuri had seen the blow that knocked the blond unconscious. Whoever this guy was…

"Holy shit! You look like me!" he exclaimed and then backpedaled as the other man jumped at him, one bloody hand pulled back to strike. In the next second the two Yuri Hyugas were grappling in the straw. One Yuri tried to punch the older man but the harmonixer blocked with his forearm and then sent a canvas clad knee pounding in below the belt. More pissed than hurt, the younger man swung a leg around trying to force Yuri back, but then they ended up against the nearby crates. A second later, there was a loud crack and Yuri rose to his knees before bringing his fist down hard on the head beneath him. Then he looked around for a weapon and spotted the knife blade sticking out of the monster's chest. Smirking, he climbed to his feet and wrenched the blade from the monster's chest and, returning to the unconscious man, used the dagger to slice his throat, pulling back on the head until the neck was severed. Then he tossed the bloody head into shadows in the corner of the room.

Rising again, he looked down at the dead harmonixer and sighed.

"Well, no sense letting this stuff go to waste," he muttered and quickly stripped off the trench coat. He was thinking about the leather trousers when a sound on the roof reminded him that Koudelka was on her way. With a huff, he sprinted for his hiding place behind the other crates and slid into the shadows just as Koudelka kicked in the upper window. Dust fluttered to the floor and a second later, the young gypsy woman landed in the straw by the dead body. She looked around spotting both the corpse, the slain monster and the unconscious blond slumped against the door.

"What happened here?" she asked softly then cautiously approached the door, one hand removing a dagger from her fanny pack. She paused, looking at the roughly dressed man, his clothing serviceable but dirty; a black leather vest over a once white shirt, and a backpack. He had short dirty blond hair and, when he stirred, opening eyes to look up at her, they were revealed as incredibly blue.

"A-angel?" the young man said his voice cracking.

"Not hardly. What happened?"

The man looked around, suddenly alert. "There was a monster, and another man was here – oh," he said as he spotted the beheaded corpse lying a few feet away. "Man that sucks," he muttered. "That guy saved my life."

Koudelka looked back briefly at the corpse. "Looks like the monster got him just as he killed it. Who was he? For that matter, who are you?"

"Plunkett. Edward J. Plunkett; pleased to meet you," the young man said and tried to rise, only to groan and remain seated. "Damn, that hurts." A dark stain was spreading across his lower shirt and Koudelka could see he was hurt. "Looks like he wasn't in time to be much help; pity. Look, I won't ask you to take me to heaven or anything, but will you pray for me at least?" Plunkett asked his eyes half-lidded.

Koudelka stepped back, a look of disgust on her face. "Are you out of your mind? There's no bloody way I'm going to pray for you..." Koudelka took a step closer and knelt down beside Plunkett. "I guess I can be merciful just this once," she said to herself and raised her hands in front of her eyes before lowering them toward the man's wounded belly. After a moment, a green light encircled her fingers and cascaded down onto the injured man and he moaned, thrashing beneath her. "Shut up! Keep it down."

Plunkett groaned and then suddenly gasped, eyes flying open to look at the women kneeling above him. He sat up as Koudelka slid back onto her heels, fatigue in her posture.

"It-it doesn't hurt anymore. I'm cured," Plunkett exclaimed. Koudelka ignored him and rose to her feet, shaking her head and flicking her hands to loosen them.

"Okay, let's go," she said and waited for him to climb to his feet.

Plunkett didn't seem to hear her, his amazement at being suddenly cured occupying his thoughts as he patted his chest and examined himself.

Koudelka tapped his boot with her foot impatiently. "Stand up or I'll leave you here."

"What happened? It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Yeah? And? So I _cured_ you, so what?" Koudelka replied and her voice was taking on a tone of impatience.

"You cured me?" Edward exclaimed, looking up at her before climbing quickly to his feet. "But, I was badly hurt; almost dead. So, you really are an angel?"

Koudelka snorted. "Don't be foolish. Do you really think that there are _angels_ on earth? I'm no angel. I'm just a medium with a little curing power."

"Well, you're my angel then," Plunkett said. "Look, I know I look pretty shady, but you don't look too wholesome yourself. I-"

"No," Koudelka interrupted. "I am not like you, and this is no place for people like you." She indicated the corpse lying in the straw, blood surrounding the body in a sticky pool. "Why did you come here?"

"I heard a rumor while I was in London, that the son of some rich family had bought an old monastery and spent a ton of money to convert it to a house. I hear he brought a lot of harlots here; seems like he was having a great time," Plunkett said and ran a hand through his dirty hair, looking around the attic room.

"So, where is this monastery?" Koudelka asked.

"That's what I'd like to know. I came all this way to put a poor man's fear of God into this rich bastard. So far, I haven't found anything. Then this monster attacked me, and that other man tried to save me... " Plunkett shook his head and sighed. "Poor bastard. If he hadn't come along I'd be singing hymns in the monster's stomach right now."

Koudelka shrugged slightly, not much more than a lift of one shoulder and gestured toward the wooden door behind Plunkett.

"Let's go. And if you don't stop talking, I'll leave you here."

"I'll have you know I was pretty good at singing hymns when I was a boy; sung soprano in the church choir," Edward pursued.

Koudelka sighed. What an idiot, she thought. "My name is Koudelka. And I'm only going to say this once, so don't forget; if you want to get out of here alive, I suggest you stick very close. Got it?"

Plunkett offered her his hand and when she refused it, he wiped it on his pants instead.

"Charmed, I'm sure."

With a tsk of disgust, Koudelka pushed past him and pulled open the wooden door, and in another moment, the two stepped through and the door closed with the squeak of rusty metal and a heavy thud.

Yuri waited for their footsteps to recede before climbing back over the stack of crates. He returned to the corpse of the younger harmonixer and looked down. He kicked at the boots and then looked at his own shabby ones before kneeling and pulling them off. After a few seconds he had the boots removed and was unbuttoning the leather trousers, peeling them off the dead body.

"Sorry brother, but you don't need these an' I can use them," he muttered as he worked, then laughed at the state of the body. His younger self was just as thin and muscular as he remembered, with the peppering of scars from years of combat covering arms, chest and legs. What Yuri hadn't expected was the reaction in death and he laughed softly as he pulled off his own trousers and replaced them with the leather ones.

"Heh-heh, younger brother was enjoying himself," he chuckled and when he finished dressing, threw his own clothes on top and rolled the corpse into the shadows. "There, now for the second one. Hope those two can stay alive without me," he said and pulled open the wooden door. "Course, they'll have that damned James in a little while, but still –"

Yuri snorted and slammed the door shut on his way out. He knew the way outside and thought he had, perhaps, two or three hours before Koudelka and her party reached the church; he simply had to wait at the arbor in the inner grounds of the monastery. He paused to listen as he entered the corridor above the caretaker's quarters, hesitating at the top of the stairs. Below, he knew, Koudelka and Edward would be fighting a monster in the herbarium and rescuing that priest. Part of him wanted very much to go after them, assist in the fight. He knew Koudelka was capable of taking care of herself, and would gain strength by the end of the night, but he had promised to protect her and he felt compelled to do just that. Instead, he shook his head and trotted down the small hallway and into the dark passage beyond. He would have to hurry if he were to get to the arbor and remain hidden from all the monsters, Koudelka, and anyone else around.

When he finally reached the outside, after several fights along the way, Yuri sprinted toward the old arbor in the center of the inner grounds. It was getting late and the heavy clouds that had lowered for most of the day and evening were now sitting pregnant with rain. A heavy mist too had rolled in and the usual wind had died down as if in expectation of the first lightening of the waiting storm. Yuri came to a stop at the fountain, his boots skidding on the mist-wet flags and he sat on the rim, looking down at his dim reflection. He looked so much older than the last time he had looked at himself; lines had begun to form around his eyes, and that pesky facial hair returned almost daily. He ran a hand through tousled locks and cocked his head to one side, watching the play of shadows on his face.

_Man, how old am I now_? he wondered then let his bangs fall, listening. He could hear the quiet shuffling of nearby zombies and skittering of animal feet in the mist. _Probably those damn cats_, he thought and looked around for the magic-wielding felines, but nothing came into immediate view. With the fog floating around him, and the mist wrapping around his boots, Yuri sat on the fountain and waited.

About an hour before midnight Yuri, who had slumped down onto the flags and huddled close to the fountain, heard an explosion. The sound came from the church and he rose to check the area in time to see Koudelka running from the church. Nodding he knew she had run afoul of the gargoyle and barely escaped with her life. Now he knew she would wander the grounds until she found her way below. Something she said before suddenly rang in his ears, about the arbor and the old caretakers.

"Ah, that's right. She'll be coming here," he muttered and looked around for a place to hide. The darkness was not as complete as he remembered it from before - there had been a wind that night and the clouds scudded across a pregnant moon. "I wonder if I fucked that up too," he said aloud as he kicked his way across the cobbles toward the gate; with any luck, she wouldn't investigate this area and instead go directly into the arbor. In a corner near the gate was the statue he'd seen before, muscular and forbidding with that wonderful sword, Sacnoth, raised above its head.

"Yeah, too bad I can't get that sword. It beats that stupid Tyrving that Keith was always swinging about." Yuri looked up at Sacnoth and shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly prickling and he looked around, expecting trouble. The clouds, which had lain light and quiet, were beginning to roil in an offshore wind that was climbing up the coast and Yuri could smell the rain as it fell, gratefully, outside the monastery. Along with the sense of danger he also felt confused. A name from somewhere, he couldn't remember, and the feeling he should know the man Keith. A confused image flashed in his mind of China many years ago.

He stood by the dirty window of the second floor hotel; he usually slept outside but this night he had luck with the bottle and the woman. In the sagging mattress a woman from the bar lay sleeping, her arms thrown back over the tumble of blankets revealing an ample pair of endowments that had sent him thrashing like a madman between her legs before the sun had set. Head buzzing with liquor he didn't remember much, if any, of the pre-bedding conversation – in fact he had no interest in anything except what she had opened to his need. But now, in the predawn cold, standing half naked at the dark window, he wondered what had wakened him. He looked down the street, the lamps fading to yellow in the dark and neither man nor beast walking about. He sneered; whatever it was, it was not his concern.

He watched a few minutes more before turning back to the warm bed, kicking aside a sheet that had slid to the floor. Time enough for one more ride with the whore before the landlord rousted out the riffraff, including him. One knee on the bed he swung his other leg over the mound of blanket and woman beneath him, pulling down the ratty material to reveal the rest of the full blown body he'd enjoyed the night before. The woman murmured in her sleep, lashes fluttering before dark eyes opened to stare at the needy man straddling her. That's when it hit him, a grinding pain like a thousand bullets piercing his head and he suddenly shrieked in agony, flinging himself off the bed and cowering on the floor, his head held in his hands and his entire body wracked with the intensity of the pain.

A voice spoke in his mind, the same voice he had heard a hundred times, whispering words he only half heard or understood. A voice that, without fail, brought him untold grief and pain.

"_Train…re grl…Proct…" _

"Arrggghh," Yuri groaned and the woman on the bed sat up, watching the young man writhe on the floor. "God damn, damn, damn."

"You all right sonny?"

Yuri's world was awash in darkness, red sparks flashing with the pounding pain and the raking rasp of claws through his brain. _I swear to God if I ever find you I'm gonna kill you_, he thought, cursing his life, cursing his power and cursing that damned voice!

Yuri winced with memory and shook his head, clearing away thought and feeling, letting the cold wind now blowing in over the monastery walls chill him before he moved on, away from the gate and behind the statue. His thoughts boiled and his stomach felt sour; something was not right about that last memory, something didn't feel good. He remembered the room, the warm voluptuous woman beneath him, riding her to satiation more than once and he remembered standing on the platform waiting for the train, having awoken an hour before from his sleep out in a nearby field, alone. How could he remember both at the same time?

A distant sound caught his attention and he shook off the remembered pain and confusion in time to duck behind the statue. He craned his neck to squint into the semi-darkness and caught sight of Koudelka making her way across the inner grounds of the monastery, heading for the arbor. His fingers itched, his hands desiring nothing more than to strangle the enemies he knew she would meet below. But he knew she would survive without him so he waited counting to ten, then fifty then one hundred before climbing back to his feet and crossing the grounds to the fountain to wait. Soon, it would be soon and he had to clear his mind if he wanted to make a quick end to this coming combat.

He was older now and, he thought, wiser than he had been when he first stepped foot in the monastery in 1898. That first time he had been both young and confused and unprepared. Without weapons, he would rely on his own strength, cunning, and fusions to survive an attack by a superior foe. Yuri was that foe, and he had weapons. He also had motivation; he wanted to get back to Koudelka and this was his ticket out of Nemeton. And so he waited, counting the minutes until he heard another explosion, knowing it was James and his nitroglycerin.

_Now_, he thought. _I remember hearing that before. I'm here now, somewhere_. He turned around, scanning the inner grounds, focusing eyes and ears on the slightest movement, the tiniest sounds. His body was taut, like a bow, and he could feel the movement of the air across his skin, the kiss of the fog like a dead lover. There - across the grounds – movement. He ducked down, squatting in the dark to watch as the mist swirled and parted as a trench coated man stepped out of the shadows, brushing himself off. Silently he waited, watching his younger self as he looked around, realizing where he was, and _when_, then as the man turned toward the church, Yuri moved, running swiftly across the dark distance and leaping at the last moment, landing with a grunt onto himself.

The next few seconds were a free-for-all as Yuri struggled against Yuri, fists locked on coat, legs kicking and thrashing as they turned and tumbled across the flags of the courtyard before finally coming to a crashing halt at the fountain. Yuri picked himself up, dragging his other self up by the collar, and then slamming him down against the lip of the fountain, head contacting stone with a loud crack. Blood splattered along the stones and Yuri cursed, calling down demons and devils onto the man trying to kill him. With a shove, the younger man kicked Yuri away, moving him back mere inches, but enough for him to get in a good kick before sliding out of Yuri's grasp. Yuri grinned, delighted at the younger man's tenacity and spunk. This would be fun!

Yuri slipped out of the older man's grasp, sending a boot heel toward his legs but missing. It didn't matter; it got him the few seconds he needed to slip free and spin around, assessing the situation. The fountain was to his left and a set of stone steps at his elbow. A flick of his eyes told him they lead toward the church. He scowled at the man in front of him, dressed identically, his face a carbon stamp of his own, yet not. The man was older, different; something about the man screamed crazy and Yuri, not sure if he was believing this, knew that here was himself from some other time. How that could be he didn't know, but he knew one thing as a certainty: he had to kill this madman or die himself.

_There's no way I'm dying at that guy's mitts_, he thought, wishing he had his Nightbird claws. With a smirk, he raised his chin in defiance at the older man and reached for a fusion.

Yuri saw the defiant glint in his younger self's eyes and the tilt of his chin. _Yup, he's got balls_, he thought. _He's gonna do it. Lessee, who'll it be?_ Grinning in spite of himself, Yuri sidled to his left, bunching his leg muscles for a leap, and then springing into the air, surprising his younger self again and smashing him into the steps behind. His head hit the paves and more blood painted the stones, and Yuri chuckled softly, knowing the younger man's head had to be spinning. Not waiting to see what the response would be, Yuri grabbed the other man's coat with his left hand, hauling him up to met his suddenly descending fist; the right fist smashed into his face, breaking the nose and blood spurted out, bathing them both. The other man scissored his legs, trying to twist free but Yuri tossed him aside, leaping over the legs and landing with an agile hop back near the fountain.

"You ain't gonna get me that easy, punk," he said and had the satisfaction of watching the younger man jump to his feet, not ready to give up just yet; there was a fire in his eyes as red supplanted amber and suddenly his body warped, shimmering and twisting as it grew in stature and power. A moment later Amon stood where the younger Yuri had, his black lips pulled back in a feral grin. "Ah, now we get down to it," Yuri said with his own grin and pulled his own fusion. A blurred moment of transformation later, the two Yuri's faced off, Amon to Amon and neither was willing to give an inch. Yuri knew he was in for the fight of his life and relished every second of it.

Amon made the first move, his wings opening up and with a flip, carrying him forward to impact the waiting Yuri. He grappled with his twin, fist against fist, knee against knee, each vying for the stronger hold, the more powerful force to move the other back, to gain the upper hand. Yuri twisted and turned in Amon's grip, shoving them both to one side as he now turned his back to the fountain and pushed, his wings fully extended. They moved back quickly, the ground passing bare inches beneath them until they slammed against the solid metal and wood of the front gates. There was a resounding gong of sound as Amon smashed into the gates and he growled, the beginnings of a defiant roar in his throat. Yuri smirked, his own black lips pulled back in glee; this was much more fun that fighting those shadows had ever been.

Yuri moved back once more and forced Amon into the gate, grunting with the effort and sending shivers though the metal and bending one of the bars. Amon's growl grew louder and suddenly Yuri found himself being pushed back toward the fountain by the younger fusionist. Amon's great black wings caught the air as they beat and carried them both to the arbor where Yuri found himself smashing into the building, roof tiles and stones shattering with the impact and sending them both crashing through the roof and into the small building. The stone floor stopped their descent and both fusions landed in a sprawl next to the dissection table and the two dead caretakers.

Amon was the first to rise, grabbing the first thing to hand, he shoved it into the other fusion's face; the male corpse, bloated with oncoming decay, exploded on impact and Yuri found himself covered in gore. With a snort, he climbed to his feet, using his left shoulder and razored forearm to fend off the returning attacks of the younger man. Once upright, he used that same razored arm as a weapon, thrusting at the other fusion, but quickly realized that was a mistake. Blood had splattered over the arbor floor and Yuri's footing was precarious, his feet sliding in the ooze. He missed his first strike at Amon and mentally cursed himself for not realizing his peril. With a change of tactics, he leapt upward, clearing the shattered roof and soared high above the inner grounds. With a quick waive, he summoned dark magic, sending a pounding wave down to the ground, smashing the arbor to small bits. However, rising from the smoke of destruction was Amon, and Yuri grit his teeth in frustration.

Amon rose on the winds, spiraling upward, his wings opened wide and his hands already moving to summon his own dark magic. Yuri yawed right, falling out of the sky just as the magic left Amon's fists, shattering the air behind him. Yuri's own fusion wings beat hard, pitching him around again and back at Amon, his right arm extended, and claws open to grab the other fusion. A moment later they collided in mid-air, Yuri's sharp claws grabbing Amon's neck. For a minute they spun in the air above Nemeton, a confusion of legs, wings, and razor sharp claws, before Amon pulled free, dark magic on the tips of his clawed fingers, and in the next heartbeat, Yuri was struck with power as it lanced out from the other fusion and pierced one wing. Shouting in pain, he spun away, a trail of black blood dribbling from the wing's membrane.

This had gone on too long; Yuri felt a knot of fury building in his gut and a trail of heat tingled along his nerves – his fusion shifted in his mind as if taking a personal interest in this contest and Yuri wondered for a brief moment, what would happen if he let it go. Amon was not like his other fusions, he was a powerful demon in his own right. Yuri knew it had been luck, skill and his own forceful personality that allowed him to fuse with the demon lord, but part of his reckless self wanted very much to see just how far the fusion would go if left a little freedom. After a moment's hesitation, and even as he was turning once more in mid-air to avoid another attack by his younger self's power, he let it loose.

Suddenly his mind was filled with darkness and an almost overwhelming sense of power. He knew no restraints; he had all the power he could ever need right here in his own dark hands. And no one, not even another demon, could lay claim to his supremacy. With a negligent flip, Yuri found himself rising higher in the windy sky, dark clouds whipping past him and coating him with their rain-laden moisture. Up he went, until the monastery was nearly lost in the clouds, before spinning and descending once more. Ignored was the pain in the injured wing, and forgotten was any idea of finesse; this was war, and Amon reveled in it. Yuri could feel the fiery anger exploding from his gut and pulsing into his limbs, making his heart race and his mind spin. The ground rushed up, and Yuri's fusion summoned his dark magic, forming a circle of energy in his fists larger than he'd ever used before.

Flying up to meet him was Amon, the other fusion and his weak harmonixer host. That one had proven a surprise for his own harmonixer, but not now, for Amon wanted to give them his blessing and he built it up in his hands until the energy crackled like lightening and the smell of ozone was strong in the cloudy air. Seconds later, just as the other fusion rose up to meet him in the clouds, Yuri let fly the power in his hands, veering off at the last moment to avoid colliding with the rising lesser fusion, Amon. Seconds later the sky exploded in lightening, black energy cascading through the clouds, tumbling and crashing until they exploded over the church tower and arced downward, striking the other fusion, and striking the bell tower. The tower suddenly crumbled, tumbling over the side of the church and Yuri could see figures fleeing the destruction even as another monster climbed over the side of the building.

Spinning around in midair, Yuri flung himself downward once more, the dark shadow of the other Amon rising, wobbling, above the demolished church bell tower. Energy spheres formed in his fists, and he shot these like cannons at the other fusion, striking him, pushing him back until he collided with him; clawed hands grappled with Amon, digging into the weakened armor of his flesh as his own wings carried them back toward the ground, and toward the front gates, the air whizzing past them in their passage. A moment later, they crashed into those wood and metal gates, the metal screaming as it bent and tore free, and the gates exploding outward, crashing onto the dirt roadway below.

Yuri continued on, carrying the struggling Amon on his claws, a fiery glee burning in his eyes as they flew up over the roadway and down again, heading straight for the Irish Sea and the sharp cliffs running along the shore. The other fusion looked around, seeing the churning ocean beneath them, and realized his danger, but by then it was too late. With a forward surge, Yuri directed their flight downward toward the cliffs. Amon struggled harder, twisting and turning in his grasp, his sharp toenails scoring down Yuri's legs, the razor sharp claws tearing gouges in his chest, but Yuri did not hesitate, did not slow his forward plunge toward the cliffs and in the next instant the cliffs of Aberystwyth rocked with the impact, boulders showering down into the sea and great clouds of dust rising on the wind, washing over the small village and the ruinous monastery on the bluff.

The flesh beneath him was soft, and pliant, and she fit him like a well-worn glove, but what the hell - she **was** a whore after all, and he was just using her. He let the rhythm of his movements and the soft, panting moans of the woman wash over him, her empty words of love and encouragement bringing a smile to his lips as he pushed toward climax and fulfillment. This was as close to love as he ever got; he knew she lied, his money paid for her lies, but damn! – it was good to think someone in this godforsaken world cared for him, even if it was a lie bought with booze and gold. He shuddered, his climax taking him as he filled her before rolling off her pliant body, the rocks beneath him poking him in the back once again and making him sit up. Cold, damp, and filthy he looked around. Yeah, the hills just outside of town and below, the train that would take him to ... he didn't know where, but he knew it was adventure. That damned voice directed him and he went ... although there would come a day of reckoning with that pain in his head. He rubbed his face and trailed his gloved fingers through his shaggy hair, breathing in the cool air. _Damn, that was a good dream_, he thought as he rose to his feet, shaking dirt and twigs from his trench coat. _Too bad it was only a dream; now I need a woman... fat fucking chance of **that** any time soon._

In the distance, he heard the train whistle and kicked at the dirt with his boots. He had to catch that train or that voice would come back and rip his head off for him. Now _that_ he didn't want, so he began to run, covering the mile to town with a few minutes to spare. Only a few passengers were waiting on the platform; crates of chickens and other assorted farm animals were stacked at the edge, and a handful of Chinese were milling around quietly. Yuri stood silently, watching the approaching train, his ticket in his gloved hand and with a tingle of excitement beginning to play along his nerves. Something was going to happen.

After a few minutes, the train pulled into the station with great puffs of steam and the stink of fuel oil. There were loud shouts as porters helped the passengers, with their crates, to climb aboard, and Yuri walked toward the front of the train and the salon car. Through the windows, he could see Japanese soldiers and he moved back, taking the entrance to the next car. It was dark and dingy, and needing a coat of paint and he seriously doubted it would fly.

"You don't expect us to fly in that thing do you?" he asked, an unknown fear of heights suddenly warring with his desire to be brave in front of the pretty blonde.

"Oh for god's sake Yuri, you're a boy - show some gumption! Climb in." He did, barely settling himself in the narrow confines before the petite blonde climbed in on top of him and settled her perky little butt onto his lap.

"Whoa, Alice," he said with a breathy laugh and then caught himself, trying to slow his rapidly beating heart and the sudden interest his lower regions were having in the delicate female now gracing his legs. Why now, he thought; why did he wanna do it now, of all times? The little blonde wiggled slightly, settling herself more firmly on his lap and then turned delft blue eyes onto him, her porcelain skin flushed and her delicate pink lips parted ever so slightly in a smile.

"I'm sorry Yuri, am I too heavy for you?"

"Nah, yer plenty light, Alice," the young man said and blinked, trying hard to not stare at the beauty on his lap as well as keeping the sleep from overwhelming him. He hadn't slept much last night and they'd both been walking and fighting. He had stood watch at Fengtian while Alice slept, and now was feeling the time catching up to him.

"Man, I need a nap or somethin'," he muttered, and put his head back against the ratty headrest in the plane's cockpit. "Wake me if something happens, okay Alice?"

"Of course, get your rest," the young woman said and waited as Yuri settled himself and closed his oddly colored eyes in sleep.

Yuri could hear the drone of the plane in his dreams, oddly disjointed dreams about his father and mother and the day she was killed. The Earth Sage sent us, the villagers had said, as they ambled and shuffled their way into the Hyuga's small home. Yuri ran forward, ostensibly to protect his mother, but when the men entered, their desiccated faces becoming clear in the light of the cook fire, he moved back, taking shelter in his mother's warm skirts.

"S-stay away," he said, his voice muffled, but the villagers, now turned zombies, did not respond; only shuffled forward with murderous intention.

"He-heh, everyone's so scared of me they won't open their doors," a gruff voice issued from behind the zombies and there, standing on the nearby fence post was a ghost of a girl. She was bloated in death, her eyes and joints black with rot, her lips pulled back in a rictus of pain and despair. "How glorious… She'll be in agony until the very moment of her death. The same agony I tasted," and the ghost flickered and vanished.

"God damn it all to HELL!" Yuri shouted and ran across the intervening space, threatening the dead woman with his fists. But she was gone, leaving only her rasping laugh and him, feeling helpless.

"Yuri, come on, she needs us," the spy cried and he turned to help her carry the unconscious blonde to the nearby restaurant.

"She's under a strong curse," the old woman said as she directed them into the Sea Turtle restaurant. Yuri and Margarete set her on a nearby mat and Yuri knelt at her side.

"That damned ghost cursed her," he said and his words ground out with a mixture of fear and anger. This couldn't be happening, not to Alice. "But what can we do, Sea Mama? There's gotta be something?" he turned concerned amber eyes onto the old woman.

"Calm yourself, I've called upon a warlock more powerful than I. He should arrive soon." She ambled over to the semi-conscious girl and looked down at her. "She's so pale; so much like Li Li."

"Li Li? Who's that, Sea Mama?"

"A girl who died fifteen years ago, yet visits this village with her curses each night. You met her earlier."

"Oh, the bitch," Yuri muttered.

"Shlooop, shlooop, splat," Sea Momma said.

"What?"

"It was like a wet, sloppy piece of meat slithering across the ground."

Yuri stood up and looked down at the old woman. "What?"

"And then the gulls began to screech too, perhaps because they wanted that meat," the old woman continued, "Schlooooop, skreee, skreee, shoop, shlooop, splat."

"Yer not makin' sense here, Sea Mama," Yuri said. He looked around and blinked. At his feet was a black lacquer table loaded with food, steaming dishes, and fish. Margarete and Alice were sitting at the table, eating, each taking dainty morsels with their chop sticks. Across the table sat that old fart Zhuzhen and next to him, the old perv Dehuai. Now who invited him?

Zhuzhen speared a bit of squid with his chops and popped it into his mouth. He looked up at Yuri and then indicated the table.

"Sit and eat, boy. You know for generations, the villagers here have worshipped the Blue Dragon at an undersea shrine. But a month ago that shrine was attacked."

Yuri smirked as he bent his knees and sat down. "Which means, Mister Smarty-Sage, you know who the big boss is, right?"

Zhuzhen chewed silently his one eye peering at the idiotic boy.

"Naturally. It's Albert Bacon, the mad scientist from Shanghai," the old man said. Yuri blinked several times, staring at the old adept.

"Yer fucked, you know that?" he said.

"What did you say?" the old adept asked, crossing the platform to look down at Yuri from above. The old coot had really taken the hits from the previous battles, Yuri noted, and smirked with pride. The bastard had tried to summon some demented demon and his old man, Ben Hyuga, had taken the asshole down to size. One arm and leg were now grafted onto his body, the replacement parts more demon than human, as his own body was shredded in the combat. Of course, Ben had lost his life in that fight as well and Yuri meant to even the score a little on dad's behalf. Standing with hands on hips, the young Harmonixer yelled at Dehuai –

"You heard me you old perv! Yer fucked, an' I'm gonna do it to ya!"

Dehuai scowled, his thin white hair trailing down his shoulder as he bent slightly to look down on the boy.

"Detestable harmonixer brat! You are too late to stop me. Already my Spirit Machine is draining the life force from the young Demon Eyes," Dehuai called down.

Zhuzhen shook his head. "You never change, Dehuai. I am ashamed to have a brother in the Arts who has twice strayed from the right path. I guess I better deliver the last rites."

"Ha! Like you could!" the old man snarled. "Very well then; come up. I'll be waiting for you."

Yuri scowled, his brows beetling in a sudden fit of rage. "You turnin' yer back on me you bastard!" he shouted and fused, calling on his winged fusion to rise toward the upper platform and Dehuai. Wings beating, his birdlike vision caught the Earth Sage as he paused in his hobbling walk to admire his handiwork. The entire tower was turned into his machine and, in the corner of the platform, was a cross-shaped apparatus upon which he had strapped the young exorcist, Alice Elliot. Dressed in a skimpy blue dress, her white stockings stained and bedraggled, she looked even more helpless and delectable than Yuri remembered. But then, before he had moved a feather, the old pervert turned toward Alice and lifted her dress, slipping his hand inside. Alice squirmed on the cross, crying out in dismay and revulsion.

"We'll see how long your sassy little attitude lasts," Dehuai said, and pushed his fingers in a little more, watching her reaction. What he got instead, was the harmonixer's reaction as the furious fusion let fly with a magical wind shear, slicing at the Earth Sage and tearing bits of his clothing away from his mangled old body.

"What? You dare..." the old man turned and a blast of crimson energy left his demon-like hand and crashed into Yuri, sending him spiraling to the lower floor, his pinions bending back painfully as he landed at the foot of the stairs once more.

"God damn that hurt." The fusionist groaned, shaking off both his fusion, and the pain of Dehuai's magic.

Yuri was climbing the metal steps two at a time; the damned things seemed to go on forever. Above he could hear the cackling laugh of that demented pervert and Alice's protest. _What was he doing to her? He better not be touching her, _the angry fighter was thinking as he finally reached the top step.

"I hope you enjoy this," Dehuai cackled, grinning maliciously, and forcing his fingers into the warmth of her, enjoying her look of dismay at his pillaging.

"They'll come for me, I know it... Help, Yuri... Help me," tears were spangling her eyes and she turned her face away from the old sage, watching with desperate hope for her rescuer. Those same pleading eyes met Yuri as he broached the last stair, and he instantly took in Dehuai's cackle and challenge.

"Is she not delectable, harmonixer? Delicious," he said with toothy glee.

Yuri screamed curses in three languages, and he leapt across the space and attacked Dehuai.

Yamaraja Calamity squatted against the far rail on the rooftop and grunted, his clawed hands moving quickly to summon a great dragon of fire. The fiery beast exploded out of nowhere, swirling madly around the trio and sending Alice to her knees, coughing and wheezing. Next to her, Zhuzhen was using his Taoist arts to make a quick magical potion that he put to her lips as she slowly climbed to her feet. On the other side was Yuri. Passion and fury warred in his eyes as he turned aside the fiery attack, and leapt in for a four-armed attack of his own. His heart was beating rapidly, the anger he felt for this old man threatening to burst its bonds, and his fusion, Ifrit, had answered his call to combat. Fire against fire – it was a fair fight. Until Dehuai moved suddenly, his speed such that his form blurred and he suddenly appeared next to Alice. With one great fist, he slapped her down, and Yuri could see the magic behind the blow: she was petrified. If Zhuzhen couldn't help her... if he didn't have the curative items to help her... she would die, her heart frozen, her lungs unable to breathe... Fury burned brightly, and he moved in to slam his four fists into the Yamaraja's gut, then leapt back to summon his own brand of fire.

A deafening explosion followed as Ifrit's Blaze magic crashed over the monster that had once been Dehuai, and the old man suddenly collapsed in on himself, falling face down in the center of the Mandala of Hell. Yuri released his fusion and looked up at the sunset sky, the oval arc of the Mandala rising above them and the winds whipping around like a cyclone. The sorcerer, Roger Bacon, hovered just out of reach, his cultured English voice grating on the young harmonixer's ears.

"Break your seal, O God of the Heavens!" he called out and Yuri ground his teeth as Kuihai Tower shook with the released energies of the Reverse Demon's Gate Invocation. The Seraphic Radiance, God of the Earth, rose from the wheel – two huge red-feathered wings covering Her horrific features. Debris from the combat spattered against him, the wind grabbing the tattered ends of his trench coat, but he didn't care. Only one thing was on his mind right now: to stop the invocation before disaster could strike.

Looking up at Bacon, he shouted: "You! You bastard!"

Bacon looked down at the four people gathered on the roof and especially at Yuri.

"For a battle between ants, I was unexpectedly moved," he said and his lips wore that ever-present, pleasant smile.

"Bacon! You fuckin' bastard! You've pissed me off now!" Yuri shouted and turned amber eyes onto the rising God. Without a backward glance, he began to run, sending the first tendrils of his soul outward, rising on the winds and making straight for the monstrous god.

"No! What are you doing? Boy, are you planning to fuse with that thing?" Zhuzhen shouted, but his words were lost in the cacophony of sound that crashed around them from the wind, and the rising monster. Yuri paid them no mind, instead continuing to rise up toward the Seraphic Radiance, his body glowing now with the power of his soul fusion.

"Let's get friendly," he said with a smirk, thinking he'd be able to conquer this thing as easily as he had his other fusions. He reached the monster in another moment, his body passing through the monster's flesh like water. Muscle, tissue, tendons, all gave way before him as his body and soul melded with the Earth God. _Now, for the take-over_, he thought and opened his mind to God.

Images flashed in his mind, strange and alien landscapes with horrific creatures passing his mind's eye. Thunder crashed, and great bolts of lightening exploded in his mind and he realized he was seeing the world of the Seraphic Radiance; incomprehensible, yet his mind struggled to understand. Thoughts and feelings assailed him, fleeting in their proximity, alien and unknown. He reached out to grasp them, to bind them and they obeyed. Confident, he reached out for more, capturing tendrils of the alien soul with his mind.

A part of him now looked down on the world below through crimson eyes. The roof top with the three puny humans shook beneath him and he could hear on the howling wind, Alice's high pitched scream of despair.

"Yuri! Don't do it!"

art of him smiled, wanting to tell her it was all right, that he was doing just fine. But then he caught sight of the other human, dancing and gyrating on the buffeting winds. Bacon.

"Most interesting," the warlock commented into the wind. "Fusing with a God, to defeat a God. But at your level, you'll be swallowed up by the darkness, just like the _other_ one."

Yuri felt anger rising in him; how dare that fucking bastard tell him he wouldn't succeed. How dare he? And the anger rose like a current, tingling like electricity through his skin, through his mind, and suddenly his hand was moving, fingers opening in a casual gesture, his mouth opening in a shout of anger. Energy crackled at his fingertips and suddenly the world exploded. Wave after wave of fire leapt from the mere gesture of his fingers and Shanghai, that great and beautiful city on the sea, shuddered, rippled and then exploded in a fireball.

Yuri was suddenly dismayed at his actions, how had he lost control like that? He turned his mind away from the carnage below and sought to firm up his control of this, the greatest of fusion monsters, grabbing at soul tendrils. He was scrabbling now, working fiercely; the monster wasn't totally his yet, and he realized that, belatedly. Below Alice's voice climbed up once more, piercing his concentration and he shuddered as her words reached him.

"Yuri... Your soul is fading!"

Fading? That's not possible, he thought. He turned his mind once more to his task and came face to face with terror. The mind of the Seraphic Radiance turned toward him, finally aware of his presence. In a heartbeat his mind was overwhelmed, the totally alien mind of the God of Earth surrounding him, engulfing him and he knew fear, he knew despair and in the end, he knew oblivion.

He was a plaything, a toy of sporadic amusement, the mind of a human child encompassed by the body, mind, and soul of a God. How had he thought he could conquer it? How had he thought he had the strength to make a God conform to his will? Yuri's life-long pain and suffering were as nothing before the pain and suffering that God granted him. A play-thing, he was little more than a play-actor in the imagination of God. Darkness, light, bright and dim, all were spiraling around him, and he prayed for darkness; he prayed to the dark that he remembered as a child: the Dark that was his father. But when he looked up, after praying for help, screaming it, all he saw was the fox mask. And then he knew it was his father there, holding him down, pressing him into oblivion repeatedly, with derisive laughter echoing in his mental hearing. Yuri wished he could just die.

_No, you won't die_, the voice said, and at first he thought it was the fox face. _No, you won't die – you're stronger than that. I will help you. _ A feeling of warmth slowly enveloped him, shielded him, protected him, and he looked around but could see naught but the miasma that was the Seraphic Radiance. And Yuri made to speak, to ask a question, but the feeling stopped, the presence receded and he was alone again. Alone except for the fox – the God of Death that stalked his every thought, and he turned to run once more.

"Dad," Yuri said, wiping his brow with one arm, "how much do I have to do? Should I keep digging?"

"_Deeper, idiot._ _Dig deeper!"_

"_Stop_!" A light female voice.

"_You'd cry for him? I hate that whiney crap." _ There was a sudden movement and a thud.

Yuri looked up from his digging. A figure lay in the dirt at his feet.

"No, dad! Don't hit mom!" he shouted.

"_Shut up you idiot!_" The fox struck him down, knocking him face first into the dirt next to the girl and he felt blood trickling down his chin.

"_Keep digging!"_

"Damnit! Yer not my dad!" Yuri yelled as he suddenly surged to his feet and knocked the fox masked man to the ground. "I'm not afraid of you anymore," he said. "No matter how many times I get knocked down, I can always stand up and fight again – cuz of her..." Yuri looked to his left and smiled.

"Heheh, long time no see," he said and flung one arm up to block the shaft of sunlight burning into his eyelids. "What the—"

With a moan, Yuri rolled over and fell off the stone of the grave marker. He had been lying on his back on the tumbled marker, his clothes ragged and wet, and he felt like he'd been run over by herd of water buffalo. His ears felt full of water and he wiped his face, spreading the grit of sand over his cheeks. With a snort, he sat up brushing dirt from him before looking around.

Daylight came in a rosy pink dawn, and the sun was even now sending shafts of light up the road from the east, and the black smoke of last night's fires still clung to the monastery stones, and a few fires continued to burn in patches, but outside the stone walls, a tent had been set up on a nearby verge, and an old swaybacked horse chomped tufts of grass close by. The night's winds had died down and seagulls cried in the cloudless skies, wheeling and turning in their never-ending search for food. With a sigh, Yuri climbed out of the graveyard and headed for the front gates.

He spotted Roger, the old hermit of the monastery, on his approach, and grinned at the frail appearance of the old man. He was taking slow, careful steps around the grounds, picking up items blown free from the explosion of the night before. Before Yuri could hail him, he had paused, looking up as the flap of the tent moved back and a young man exited, standing straight and tall, his blond hair ruffled from his night's sleep.

"Ah, the sun came out," he said to someone else inside the tent and then moved aside as a young woman joined him.

Koudelka pulled her coppery hair back and tied it with a length of leather, squinting up into the clear sky.

"I prefer it a little hazier though," she said softly then looked around. She spotted Roger ambling slowly down from the main gate, the remains of which lay in a mound by the road.

And Yuri stood in silence watching the scene, his heart wrenching to see Koudelka's warm and wistful smile shared with Edward… the man he had saved last night; the man who had just shared Koudelka's bed… A sudden pain in his head made him turn away, an inkling of anger turning to jealousy. He could, so easily, follow lover-boy and kill him. Hell, he could out-fly the blond bastard and take him from the horse, slice him in a million tiny ribbons of blood and flesh, and then return to reclaim his lover, his wife. He blinked suddenly and rubbed his eyes. When he looked up, Edward had already mounted the horse and was looking down at Koudelka with a crooked smile.

With a growl and a sigh he turned toward the gate again and joined them, pausing behind Koudelka as she and old Roger watched Edward ride away, his last look back was a jaunty waive.

"Are you sure you should let him go, child," Roger asked.

"Yes. It'll be all right. I have a feeling we'll meet again, someday," the gypsy said and turned toward Roger only to see Yuri leaning against the wall behind her. Startled she moved back, a hand moving toward her knife.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

Yuri stood his ground, looking down at the gypsy woman who, until a few hours ago, had been his lover.

"Oh, I'm – I'm just an adventurer. Name's Yuri Hyuga," he answered and resisted the impulse to take her in his arms. The woman stared hard at him for a moment, and then dismissed him, turning back toward the monk.

"What will you do now that your home is gone, Roger," she asked.

The old man shrugged, rubbing a bony hand over his bald pate. "Eventually I'll build an observatory to continue my studies," he said, "but in the meantime I can use the old caretaker's quarters. Wonder what happened to _them_."

"They're dead," Koudelka supplied.

"What about all the dead things?" Yuri asked, interrupting. "And the big monster."

Koudelka moved away from the wall and looked up at the still smoking tower remains. "Elaine has been... saved, at the sacrifice of a friend's life." Yuri had a sudden vision at her words, of a light shining down from heaven, mystical light energy or perhaps, angels, flying down and lifting James and Elaine up to heaven. He blinked and shook himself.

"Ah, good, good. And that one in the church? The gargoyle thing?"

"How do you know about that? How long have you been here?" she asked, her voice suspicious.

"Oh, uh, well, since last night," Yuri said, trying not to look at her, instead looking up at the stone monastery walls. "I went into the church only I saw a big stony lookin' thing..." and he shrugged.

"Ah, I see," she said but she turned her eyes onto him and stared very hard. She knew he was hiding something; his voice didn't ring true to her. "Well, I don't know if it's dead or not," she said slowly, choosing to ignore her feelings for now. "We tried but were unable to kill it before. It was too strong for us."

Yuri had felt beads of sweat suddenly popping out on his neck when she stared at him; she knew he was lying and he dreaded her calling him on it, but when she responded with words not magic, he grinned. "Ah, then there's one more to go. I'll take care of it for you," he said proudly and stood a little taller, a little straighter.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Koudelka exclaimed. "If the three of us couldn't defeat it, what makes you think you can do it all alone?"

"I don't see why not," Yuri said. "An' I won't be alone – you'll be there to cheer me on," and Yuri turned toward the broken gates.

"Oh, I'll watch all right," Koudelka said. "Just don't expect me to bury you."

Yuri chuckled as he passed by the statue in the courtyard, the blade Sacnoth still clutched within its metallic grasp.

Pity we don't have that, he mused, but I'll do just fine without it, an' we can get it later I suppose He led the others past the arbor, and paused at the entrance to the church. For the most part the building was in ruins, smoke and damage from the "lightening" having rendered most of the structure unsound and sending blocks of stone crashing to the inner grounds. The open portico at the church front was smashed to pebbles and the main doorway was blocked with rubble but Yuri took the stairs to the top before pausing at the wreckage.

"Now I know you're mad if you think you can break through that," Koudelka said and folded her arms, her lips pressed in disbelief. Yuri looked at the pile of rubble blocking the church door and shrugged.

"No sweat," he turned back to Koudelka and Roger, who had followed behind them. He stepped closer to Koudelka, putting his hand under her chin, lifting it with his thumbs. For a moment, she looked like she would move away, but when she didn't Yuri bent down closer.

"Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you. I would _never_ hurt you," he said, looking intently at her before moving away from them, backing a few feet closer to the doorway.

Frowning, he concentrated on his fusions. Getting the doorway unblocked would be one and the gargoyle, he knew, would require his most potent fusion. With that in mind, he fused, his body becoming taller, more muscular, and his skin turned dark like iron, a pair of heavy wings opened from his back, and a long razor sharp bone grew from his left forearm. A pair of red eyes looked down on Koudelka and sent her shivering, placing her arms around herself. True to her power and bravery, she did not flinch or scream but watched as the man who had become a monster, turned toward the rubble blocking the door. He moved with lumbering steps and waived his arms in an odd pattern that Koudelka took for warnings then realized was ritual. The movement was slow and graceful, and when his clawed hands came together, it was with an explosion of dark light aimed directly at the doorway, and a second later the resultant explosion not only cleared the doorway of rubble, it shattered the remaining door frame and lintel and sent all flying into the church to crash and shatter into dust against the far wall. Koudelka gasped at the power the monster had just shown and again, when the monster turned toward her. His form blurred and warped and there stood Yuri, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"See? What did I tell ya, babe?" Yuri said. "An' you ain't seen nothin' yet."

"Wait," Koudelka said and she raised her hands. "I don't care who you say you are, or what you say you are doing here – but _what_ you are is another thing."

"Oh, you mean Amon? He's a pussycat when ya get to know him," Yuri replied.

"It's a demon," Koudelka corrected.

"Yeah, so?"

Koudelka, standing with one hand resting lightly on her hip, stared hard at the fighter. "You sold your soul?" she asked bluntly.

"Nah," Yuri replied nonchalantly. "I fought him and beat him," he said. "An' now Amon is mine," and Yuri grinned boyishly.

"Amon?"

"Amon is the Lord of the Underworld," Roger interjected, speaking for the first time. "He is the Lord of Dark Souls and a formidable demon. And you... you fought it?"

Yuri rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. "Yeah, well, not cuz I wanted to. Then I beat him and got him for a fusion. He's good though, really."

"Fusion," Koudelka said and moved toward the church.

"Wait," Yuri stopped her, his hand on her shoulder. "The monster's in there – an' he'll come soon as we walk in."

"Do you really think you can do this?" Roger asked, his wrinkled eyes wide, and his long brown bony fingers pulling at the remains of his Franciscan robes. Yuri looked down at the old monk before squatting in front of him.

"We have to Roger," he said, looking up at the monk from his knees. "We need to defeat him, and seal him away, for everything to be right."

"What do you mean, 'for everything to be right'?" Koudelka asked.

"Well," Yuri said and rose to his feet again. "It's just that – well, I have the stone from before, and so I know it was done. 'Sides, Roger told me."

"I did?"

"Yeah, first time I was here. You said as how Koudelka had sealed away his power an' all. See?" Yuri reached into the small front pocket of the leather trousers and pulled out a cloth bag. He carried this bag all the way from Rouen when he'd found the first elemental stone. He'd left his original bag in Roger's house with Koudelka and the kids, but that didn't mean he didn't still have them in his pants from earlier. Grinning, he opened the bag and carefully spilled the stones into his open palm. Eight oddly shaped stones tumbled into his hand and began to glow softly with a dim inner light, and Koudelka took one up and rolled it in her fingers.

"That's a water stone," Yuri explained. "It helped me to get my water fusion, Egil." Koudelka nodded slightly and her eyes were mere slits as she felt the stone in her hand.

"It's not very strong, but I can feel the emanations of water and ice, and a touch of... healing?"

"Yup, Egil's aura. There's also wind, fire, light and dark," and Yuri pointed to each stone respectively.

"And these two?" Koudelka indicated the last stones. One was black, a vein of red ore running through it, and when Koudelka touched it she jumped back.

"It's evil, so evil," she breathed, shuddering.

"No, tamed, I guess."

"How can you tame such a thing?"

Yuri pulled his fingers through his long hair. "Not that hard, really. But we should get going. The gargoyle's waiting, an' I have another surprise for you. See that last stone? That helped bring me this," he pocketed the stones again and moved back, changing.

Fusing to Seraphic Radiance was always a thrill, both because of the sheer power, and the danger. Seraphic cooperated – he had no choice, but that didn't mean he wouldn't protest in his own way. Yuri remembered in the fight against Albert Simon's Meta-God that Seraphic Radiance was excited at the prospect of showing his true might and power through the vessel of the Harmonixer. But there had been that time... Yuri blinked and shook his head.

"Okay, here goes." Yuri reached in and called the Seraphic Radiance. The fusion eluded his grasp, teasing the fighter for a moment before merging with him. Yuri's body changed, his well-proportioned form now tattooed in dark, etheric energy that flashed and crackled over his bare limbs, while black wings rose proudly behind him. Koudelka had stepped back when Yuri started to fuse, and now stood with arms crossed and a crooked smile playing on her lips.

"And who are you supposed to be?"

"I am the Seraphic Radiance – a God of the Earth," Yuri supplied and a smile played across his ebony lips.

"A _god_..."

"All will be well. I will deal with the lowly demon in the church," Seraphic Radiance interrupted, and turned toward the church doors. With a negligent flip of his black wings, he launched himself into the church proper, soaring up to the high ceiling, hunting a gargoyle. He didn't have long to search as the stone creature winged from the dark recesses of the church, his own grey wings a stony testament to his demonic origins. He flew down to the floor and hovered over the dusty mosaics, wrapping those same wings around himself like a shield. His long muscular tail hanging down like a rudder, the gargoyle began to spin in place.

The Seraphic Radiance paused at the aphelion of his climb to the ceiling and looked down at the gargoyle; he remembered this foolish creature. He would destroy it once again, for all time. White hands came together as if in prayer, and energy formed in those hands, soon becoming a ball of white light. Seconds later the energy left Seraphic's hands, shooting downward toward the spinning gargoyle. Seraphic watched with red eyes as a taste of his power slammed into the gargoyle and bathed it in beatific light, and when the light had cleared, the gargoyle was gone, leaving only a trail of dust on the church floor. Then the fusion swooped down to Koudelka and Roger, the two of them still standing at the blown entrance, landing with a back sweep of his wings and a scattering of dust.

"Now the creature is dead," he said and his voice was a throb of power that sent chills down Koudelka's spine. "And now he can be sealed," he finished. Standing with arms folded against his chest, a smirk on his lips, and Koudelka thought there was just a touch of the cocky, yet petulant child, in this man-turned-monster. Yet in looking at him, in reaching out with a tremulous mental touch, she could feel no evil in him nor prejudiced hostility. Bacon stepped out in front of her and peered up at the taller man, looking with eyes that had seen more than most.

"Quite impressive," he said with more curiosity than quaver in his voice. "I don't suppose you do birthday parties."

The Earth God looked down at the diminutive child-like monk and grinned, a deep rumble beginning in his chest as laughter bubbled out. His body blurred, warping slightly as it returned to Yuri's leather clad and trench coated human form. He was still laughing and he swatted at the old monk with playful intent.

"Now all we hafta do is seal him away," Yuri said, looking up at Koudelka, his head tilted slightly and a silly grin on his face.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked. "What is this 'we' and what is it that's being sealed?"

"Why, the gargoyle of course. Like I said, Roger told me first time I was here."

Roger waived his hands between the two and cleared his throat. "And when was that, young man?"

Yuri grinned at the diminutive monk. "A year or so ago. It was just before we fought Simon and his stupid god-thingie. You were telling us about how Koudelka sealed away the Soul of Destruction, sealing his power for later. See?" He fished into his trousers once more for the small bag and pulled out one dark stone. "This is the Stone of Destruction – or anyway that's what _you _called it when I showed it to you."

Koudelka looked at the stone and nodded, sensing he was telling the truth even if he, in fact, wasn't. That confused her.

"You just showed me those stones earlier, and I said nothing about sealing them – you did. Yuri," she paused and looked at Roger before continuing, "I think you're delusional."

Yuri laughed. "I knew you'd say that. Damn, nobody believes me," he said chuckling. "Look, I know this is fucked up, but I been here so many times now, I can't keep track of what I tol' you and what I didn't. And right now I could use some grub. Any chance of some food? An' I'll explain what I can."

"We'll use the caretaker's quarters," Roger said. "There should be plenty of supplies there."

"Yeah, now that the old farts – oops, I mean couple are gone, there won't be any poison in the soup," Yuri said with a grin aimed at Roger. "So, who's cooking?"


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

A/N Don't own Shadow Hearts or Koudelka – life is sooooooo unfair!

The three sat at the hearth of the fireplace in the kitchen, Yuri with his back to the wall while Roger squatted on a low stool near the firedogs. A large pot bubbled on the spit and roger occasionally reached in with a wooden spoon to stir the contents. Tantalizing aromas of meat and spices drifted up from the pot and Koudelka more than once wiped saliva from her anticipatory lips. Yuri's stomach rumbled loudly and he finally nudged Roger's stool with his boot, getting the old man's attention.

"When's chow – I'm starving here," he said and gave Roger his best I'm-hungry-feed-the-puppy look. Roger looked up at the fighter and laughed.

"When it is done Yuri, and not before."

"Well, I am with Yuri on this one, Roger. I'm hungry too," Koudelka added and then chuckled. Yuri was putting on an I-am-so-starved-I'm-fading-away pantomime behind Roger's back and it brought a grin then laughter to the gypsy woman. "You _are_ incorrigible, aren't you, Yuri?"

"Yeah, well I don't take much encouraging, at least so I've heard," the fusionist said with a grin and rose to bring the bowls and tray with bread and cheese over to the hearth. "My mom used to laugh at my antics too, only it always worked with her. Now my dad…" Yuri's voice faded off as he offered cheese and bread to Koudelka.

She looked up as she bit into the piquant cheese to see Yuri's suddenly serious face.

"You and your father not get along?" she asked.

"Well," he said with a shrug and sat down again, a piece of bread folded in two with a bit of cheese between. "I had a powerful hate on him for the longest time; he always traveled for work and it upset mom no end. I got so I wanted to kick his ass – but of course, I couldn't. Then one winter, he didn't come back from work – he got killed – an' monsters came an'... well," he shrugged and went silent, cramming the bread and cheese into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. Why he was telling her all of this puzzled him. Maybe it was because they had lived together for so long; he still felt love for this woman, felt it in his chest and in his empty arms and in his need for her body. He shuddered suddenly, feeling her hands on his body with ghostly fingers. He choked on the bread and coughed, spitting out bits of cheese and crust. Get a-hold of yourself Yuri, this is not your wife; well, she is, but she doesn't know it yet. He looked across the hearth at the play of light and shadows on her auburn hair and the flicker of the firelight burnished it even darker. He liked the firelight on her skin - how the shadows made it dusky, and the mystery it leant to her shadowy eyes.

'Man, I gotta get a-hold of myself.' Yet even as he thought it, his eyes did not leave her, watching her tear pieces of bread and cheese, biting each one and thoughtfully chewing.

"All right," Roger said, giving the pot a final stir. "Supper's ready."

Yuri wiped the crumbs from his face and snatched up two bowls, letting Roger fill them both. He offered one to Koudelka and then gave the second one to Roger himself. The old monk nodded and began to spoon hot stew into his mouth. Yuri took the last bowl and filled it before sitting back against the hearth. Without thinking, he spooned stew into his mouth, his eyes suddenly growing wide and he opened his mouth, blowing across the hot food on his tongue.

"Damnth's hot!" he exclaimed through the mouthful before quickly swallowing.

Koudelka sighed.

"You could blow on it _before_ you stuff your face," she said.

Yuri grinned. "Yeah, so yer always tellin' me," he remarked and missed Koudelka's confused look as he blew on the stew this time before shoveling it in. When he'd finished he stretched expansively and yawned. "I dunno about you two, but I'm sleepy."

Roger nodded and nudged Yuri with his sandaled foot.

"After that performance in the church, I should think so. But Yuri," the old man leaned over and put his face in Yuri's line of sight. Yuri moved back, startled.

"Wha-?"

"We need to have a little talk, you and I. There are things that need to be done, yes. And much as I think I can trust you, youngster, I have unanswered questions about you."

Yuri smirked then wiped it off his face with the back of his sleeve. "Okay, I got it. I maybe said things I shouldn'ta, right?"

Koudelka rose from her spot behind Roger and took up the bowls, carrying them to the large wooden table.

"Amongst other things," she said. "We both have questions about you; but even more, I want to know about those stones – how you got them, and that one you say was sealed here at Nemeton... that **_I_** sealed here."

Yuri nodded, climbing to his feet and stretching again.

"Yeah, I can see that. How about we do all this talkin' in the morning. Wake me if something happens, otherwise, I'll see ya," he turned and, with a negligent wave, took the stairs to the hallway and left the kitchen.

Roger and Koudelka both remained behind, silent until they heard the slamming of the other door leading to the beds. Roger, seated by the fire, picked up the poker and prodded one blackened log, causing sparks to fly up the flume. He looked like his dinner didn't agree with him, a sour expression causing his brows to beetle in concentration. Koudelka had not moved from her place by the table; she was pressing her finger against breadcrumbs and smashing them one after another, lost in thought.

"Do you think he's right, Koudelka?" Roger asked from his stool. She didn't turn around, shrugging her uncertainty and continued picking at the crumbs. "I would love to know if my idea is right," he said then hesitated and looked askance at the gypsy girl.

"What idea, Roger."

The old man rose to his feet with creaking joints and hobbled over to the table. He touched her wrist with one bony hand and caught her attention.

"He disturbs you, doesn't he? It's almost as if you know him – like he says. I have a theory and, tomorrow I intend to ask him some questions. But I think I already know the answer."

Koudelka looked down at Roger, his clear eyes large in the dark room.

"Tell me," she said.

Roger sighed, pulling down on his tattered robes and tightening the rope cinch at his waist. "I think he came from the future."

"Oh come on!" Koudelka exclaimed. "That's impossible."

"Is it? Then how do you explain his knowledge of things not yet happening, hmmm?"

Koudelka shook her head. "I don't know. I have a feeling about him. I sense he's ... he's telling the truth, but he's hiding something too."

"It is my humble belief," the old man said, "that all men hide something; some more than others. Except for myself of course – I am quite open and honest."

Koudelka looked at the old monk with a crooked eyebrow.

"Do tell," she said and they both laughed.

"There, you see? Life is too short to be upset. Tomorrow we will have our answers and you, I think, will know more about him than you wanted to." And at Koudelka's questioning look, "he seems to like you – a lot."

Koudelka's brows lowered into a frown and she looked at the door leading to the caretaker's rooms. She didn't know what to say, never mind think, about the young man who had suddenly appeared at the monastery. He said he was an adventurer, but so far he had proven to be more than that; there was something mysterious about him and dangerous. He could turn into monsters; that alone made his motives suspicious. Her teacher used to say that one had to discern the real from the false, but with Yuri, that discerning was more difficult. His words spoken in jest were more truthful and honest than his heart-felt remarks. How could one judge such a man? How could she know his true heart?

"I'm going to sleep, Roger. Don't stay up all night, okay?" she said and slowly crossed the kitchen floor toward the stairs.

Roger chuckled behind her. "What matters sleep to me? I just woke up from a century long nap." And Roger's continued soliloquy followed her down the stairs and into the hallway.

The next day dawned to rain and hail. A hard storm had driven in with the sea winds and was pummeling the ruinous monastery with the sea-born ire. Rain washed through the broken and burned church, flushing the ash into the inner grounds and creating quagmires of blackened mud, while the fires, now extinguished, left their oily smoke hovering like fog along the ground. The sky itself was low and black with clouds and the wind howled like a banshee.

Roger stood at the entrance to the church sanctuary, a ragged cloak pulled close about him, and next to him was Koudelka and Yuri, the younger man coatless as he had offered up his trench coat to the gypsy woman. Roger was looking for the casket that had once marked the entrance to the underground crypt but with the fire erupting in the sanctuary and the explosion in the crypt itself, he wasn't recognizing anything. With a gesture and a shrug, he turned toward Yuri.

"I'm sorry Yuri, but I just can't make it out in here. It may be ruined or buried beyond finding," he said, his voice quavery in the howling wind.

Yuri squinted at the wrecked inner church, trying to remember what it had looked like two years ago when he had last been here. He moved past Roger, climbing over fallen bricks and foundation stones, shoving charred wooden beams aside to make his slow way into the sanctuary. He stopped near the center, looking up at the remains of the pipe organ whose once burnished bronze pipes were melted and twisted into a nightmare of metallic ooze that had puddled at the base of the now burned staircase. The stained glass windows, which had once looked outside on God's creation, were gone, shattered and rendered to dust, the entire apse blown to kingdom come. Looking to his left, up to where the choir loft had been, with the sick flower that had given birth to the monstrous Elaine, Yuri was greeted with blacked char and cracked marble. Gone was the loft, the Tree of Life growing through its once sacred floor. But he knew now where the crypt should be and he climbed over even more sacred detritus to the center of the sanctuary. There, buried beneath tons of marble blocks, was the crypt, and Yuri sighed with the need for more hard work.

"Damn," he muttered. "Well, I'll just have to get the moving crew." He turned back toward Roger. "You both might as well wait someplace warm; I'm gonna clean up here." He waited until they moved back, taking a shortcut to the arbor; the abattoir was still intact, if surrounded by debris, and the inside was still awash in blood, but it was dry. Yuri watched their retreating forms for a moment then turned to assess the work.

"Man, I'm gonna need some heavy lifting here," he grumbled then snorted. "Oh, what the hell." He pulled his fire fusion Forron from deep in his soul and fused. The giant fire monster stood nearly seven feet tall and with his four strong arms, could lift and move the heavy stones without Yuri having to break a sweat. For the next few hours Forron hefted, shoved, and burned his way through the collapsed roof, wall stones, and other matter that had settled on top of the crypt doorway and, by midday, he had cleared enough of the garbage away to reveal the bent and battered door and stairs.

Reverting to Yuri, he let fly a whistle that resounded shrilly in the ruins, bouncing from wall to wall and reaching Koudelka and Roger inside the arbor. They had industriously moved the stinking corpses of the caretakers and placed them outside, knowing full well the wildlife of the monastery would make clean work of them shortly, then Koudelka took an old broom to the floor, sweeping out the dried blood, giving them both a place to sit. When they heard Yuri's whistled call, they both scrambled back over the ruins to the sanctuary.

When they caught up to Yuri again he was standing next to an opening in the church floor, his arms akimbo and a grin on his tired face.

"Well, lookie what I found," he said and chuckled. Both Koudelka and Roger ignored him and Roger made his way down the stairs into the dark crypt. "Fine then," Yuri muttered and followed.

The crypt was considerably changed from the last time Yuri had been there. The cauldron was black and torn, great rents in its metal sides exposing the greenish metal within, and the lip of the pot was curled down in several places and melted like wax. The chamber, once small, had blown open a stone wall in the far end and revealed a metal door, black with age, but undamaged. Roger exclaimed in surprise and ran for the door before Koudelka could summon light.

"Whoa, it's kinda like before…" Yuri muttered and stood at the foot of the stairs, his eyes darting from the burnt out cauldron to the metal doors and around the chamber with its surviving columns. Curious, Koudelka turned toward him, her summoned light a mere flicker of white flame in the palm of her hand.

"Do you remember this place?" she asked, wondering how he could unless he had been there before the fire. But one look at his face told her he was seeing something other than the chamber, for his eyes were wide open, and had shifted from quiet amber to a fierce red. She shuddered at the thought that this man was possessed of a demon and he might now be losing all control.

For his part, Yuri was seeing the crypt as it had once been. Images flashed in his mind of his earlier visit, with James holding the arm of St. Daniel over the cauldron, the tree of life growing thick and heavy from the primordial ooze bubbling in the pot. He could still see the mummy of Patrick Heyworth wrapped in roots at the cauldron's base. Blinking, he heard James's intonations as he prayed for strength to the dead saint and, at the same time, he could see old Roger walking down the steps behind him, his yellow suit and straw hat an odd sight in the ancient ruins.

They had descended the stairs to the basement of the old monastery and Roger Bacon - the _real_ Roger Bacon - had lead them there, nattering on about ruins and ghosts and all sorts of silly stuff. Yuri shook his head and just wished the old man would get on with it. But once they descended the stairs, the atmosphere changed. Alice clutched her hands to her breast and collapsed to her knees, panting. Yuri was there instantly, his own heart racing in concern for the lovely exorcist.

"Alice, are you okay?" he asked, one hand reaching out to tentatively touch her shoulder. Alice was quivering, her thin body shaking with whatever she was feeling.

"Wh-what is this place? It's full of evil spirits," she asked, breathless and the old hermit came back and nodded sagely.

"So you can sense the atmosphere of curse and chaos that remains here eh? I'm proud of you," he said and gestured toward the bronze doors on the other side of the chamber. "Koudelka's power sealed him, but his spirit remains."

Yuri blinked, watching as Roger walked across the chamber and tapped the bronze door, and at the same time he could see Koudelka gesturing over the cauldron, James holding up the mummy's arm.

"Is it soup yet?" he heard himself say, and caught his own figure shrouded in shadows just past the cauldron. Suddenly he felt dizzy, the crypt chamber spinning around him in a swirl of light and dark and he sank to the stairs, Koudelka and Roger both forgotten in the play of images racing through his mind.

Gone was the dark crypt, the dank and dusty atmosphere replaced with the stinking smells of sweat, urine and rice beer. The bar was a den of iniquity, and the bright stage lights aimed at the fading scarlet curtain were certainly no improvement. Tables had been knocked aside and the old man, Zhuzhen, was collapsed on his knees on the dirty floor, the grinning face of Wugui looking down on him.

"I was thinking of allowing you a quick death, but as usual you had to open your mouth. Well then, I'll just have to cut out that wagging tongue of yours," the Chinese thug was saying, his lips pulled back in a nasty sneer.

Yuri took the stairs three at a time, landing with a thud on the floor, the young woman, Quihua, right behind him. In a moment, he'd assessed the situation and went to Zhuzhen's side, kneeling down.

"You half dead, pops? This guy do this to you?" He stood up, ignoring Zhuzhen for the moment and looking Wugui up and down, seeing an over-dressed pompous thug. It didn't matter if this guy had special abilities or not: he had hurt Zhuzhen, and worked for Dehuai, and that was enough for Yuri. Before the black haired gangster could move, Yuri was on him, a fury of fists and feet that, in a couple of minutes, had the gangster kneeling on the dirty bar floor, panting and bloody.

"Wh-who are you?" he asked, panting.

"Doesn't matter, bastard. You go back to that dog you work for and you tell him – he better hide all his girlie magazines, cuz I'm coming to get him an' he could get killed any day now," Yuri replied, with a mixture of anger and bravado that made Wugui shudder before he staggered to his feet and fled.

"Yuri!" Alice cried, her voice weak but her heart reaching out to the man who had protected her these past days.

"Alice!" Yuri took the stairs at a bound but skidded to a stop when Dehuai confronted him. The old crippled sage stood between him and the woman hanging on the mechanized cross and Yuri, seeing the young lady sagging, her life nearly gone, felt an enormous rage fill him. He growled his hatred of the old wizard and donned his fighting claws.

"I'm gonna smear your ass all over this floor," he said and leapt toward the rising demon. The skies above were a miasma of clouds and energy, lightening playing across the cloud cover and sending strikes toward the ground. The wind whipped like a tornado around the top of Kuihai Tower and Yuri's coat flapped around his knees. He was not taking any more guff from these bastard wizards! He saw the monster, the God of the Earth that Dehuai and the warlock Bacon had summoned rising on the winds, the spiraling gate that lead to the monster's realm dancing above the Mandala of Hell on the roof of the tower. Somehow, he had to stop that thing. And so he ran, rising on the wings of his own power and met the summoned God, and fused with the summoned God and…

His world fractured, shattering like a thousand glass shards riding a wind. He had the thing, held it in his hands, and in his mind, for a fraction of a heartbeat and then – it beheld him and his mind shattered, his soul screamed, gibbering in terror and the man who would fuse with a god found himself swallowed up by that very same deity.

"Yuri?"

The swirl of light and dark before his eyes began to ease and Yuri blinked, suddenly aware he had slumped down onto the dusty stairs. He looked up to see a pair of concerned golden eyes, and Koudelka kneeling beside him.

"Whoa, sorry," he muttered. "What did I miss?"

"You just suddenly... stopped. Are you all right?"

The fusionist scoured his face with roughened hands and sighed. "Yeah, I – I guess I felt dizzy or somethin'," he said. He took a deep breath, tasting the dust and death in the crypt and looked around for Roger. The old hermit had opened the bronze door beyond the burned out chamber and gone on alone. "Damn, I wish he'd wait before takin' off like that."

Yuri rose to his feet and crossed the crypt, moving past the cauldron with little more than a glance and a suppressed shudder. He pushed open the door and paused, mouth open in awe at the remains of the Nemeton basement. What had once been the kitchen and lower basement areas, with bridges and chambers locked away by heavy doors, was now several large chambers, walls reduced to melted and slagged rock and metal, with columns of stone and lintels of building blocks from the lower levels of the church. Ahead, were the old ovens, their metal melted into pools and their stone faces burnt black; they lay on their sides with pools of dark green water flowing slowly around them. Just past the ovens was a chamber with a tide pool, deep blue and green water rose from below, and Yuri could catch just the faintest hint of sea life making their home inside.

"I don't recognize the pool," he said as they wandered carefully and slowly through the basement. "I don't remember seeing it."

"I did; I found it occupied by a monster," Koudelka said. "But I was able to defeat it, and the path beyond lead to the graveyard. Now…"

Yuri nodded. "Ah, but what about that door?"

Roger and Koudelka both paused in their explorations and looked back at Yuri.

"What door?" Roger asked.

"The big bronze one that leads off from the pool," Yuri said. "Is it still there?"

Koudelka looked surprised. "I thought you hadn't seen this pool before," she said.

Yuri shook his head. "I have seen _this_ pool, I just haven't seen where it came from." He looked ahead and blinked into the dim distance. "Oh yeah, it's just ahead, I remember now."

Yuri walked ahead ignoring the startled and puzzled looks shared by Roger and Koudelka. His mind was swimming with memories of that first time, the spooky ghost-filled atmosphere, the cries of dead souls filling the air, and the scuttle and creak of insects and monsters in the noisome dark. And that girl… the one with silver hair. He squinted as he walked, remembering her as she walked ahead of him, her pert little behind enticing him with blue velvet and white lace. Damn! Her name was on the tip of his tongue!

Kicking past debris and brackish standing water, Yuri made his way through the basement; it didn't look quite as it had all those years ago, since the ground then had been dry, and the writing on the walls... he paused at one alcove and stared at the flat walls. He distinctly remembered there had been words carved into the walls there - words to direct whomever on what to do to break the seals.

"Oh, yeah, we haven't done 'em yet," he said aloud and laughed.

"What was that?" Koudelka asked from behind him.

"The seals, we haven't done 'em so of course we haven't written how to undo them yet," he answered and gestured toward the alcove. "**_The seal is flame_** it used to say an' I remember repeating it to myself the whole time I was down here. Drove ol' Zhuzhen crazy," he said and laughed.

"_The seal is flame_, hum? It sounds like you used magic to seal something, but why leave clues to its undoing?" Roger asked.

Yuri paused in the dark passage, looking over toward a pool of water; a tumble of support blocks made an impromptu bridge to an outcrop and Yuri remembered seeing a trick chest there before. The whole basement brought back such memories for him – the fighting for his life, his fear that if he didn't clear the malice he'd lose ... lose... Snorting, he turned away.

"Yeah, well, that's cuz we'd need to unseal the whole mess ya know," he said and continued down the passage, crossing over water pooled around a tumble of blocks and taking the left hand path. "It's up here." He led them around a bend and down a steep path and stopped at another alcove. This one was small, with a pool of boiling water bubbling and steaming madly in the center. "I never understood why it's hot here," he said and indicated the pool, "but this is where I found the stone."

Koudelka passed him and stepped into the stone alcove, looking over the bubbling pit.

"It shouldn't be too hard," she said quietly.

"_Let the soul of destruction be sealed to this land… Let the power of destruction be released, as all seals are broken_," Yuri said just as quietly, staring at the reddish steam rising into the chamber. "I fretted over that for almost the whole night; we were resting by the doors, preparing ourselves for the fight we knew we would face. Simon had taken the witch an' was gonna use her powers. We had to stop him, but getting here had been one fight after another, and those damned Masks kept popping up. I had a hella time keeping it under control," Yuri's voice was level, his eyes blurred as if seeing things from far away. "Finally I got it. I understood what we had missed – opening the last seal opened up this one too an' I got the stone. When we faced Simon, he used the power of Amon, an' when we defeated him, I got the fusion," he finished, and a smile was playing across his lips as he remembered that day – how the power of the fusion had filled him and how he felt that nothing, _nothing_ could ever stop him.

Roger had joined Koudelka at the pool and looked up at Yuri's foolish expression, his own brows coming down in a frown.

"You – speak as if this has already happened," he said. "How can that be?"

Yuri, his eyes still unfocused, looked down on the little monk. "You an' yer damned time machines. You sent me back; an' I fucked everything up. But I fixed it. Now all I gotta do is help you set the seals, an' then, then maybe I can go home to..." he frowned suddenly, his eyes squinting and he grit his teeth. "To..." an image filled his mind suddenly, the blue clad female of his dreams and nightmares. The perky ass swishing too and fro, her silvery hair a shimmer in the moonlight... her voice, light and airy, and her name – so cute... His hands came up and rubbed his face, abrading the skin with roughened fingers, and he groaned, his mind reaching for the name, which slipped like water between his fingers.

"Damn!" he shouted and, tossing the stone toward Koudelka, he turned and fled into the dark recesses of the basement.

Roger and Koudelka watched in confusion as Yuri ran off and Koudelka held the stone with her fingertips, a feeling of nausea warring within. Finally, she looked down at the dark piece of rock and set it on the verge of the pool. The water within bubbled softly, steam rising to the roof and she dipped her hand in quickly, sluicing it clean.

"Are you all right child?" Roger asked, puzzled at the young man's action, his words, and now Koudelka.

"I- I suppose. Hot springs?" she asked inanely and at Roger's nod, took up another handful and washed her face. "He confuses me. It's like he knows me and assumes I know what he's talking about."

Roger nodded. "Yes. I was right in my early guessing; he has been here before. And met us." And Koudelka raised her head, startled. "Yes, I had plans, long ago, to build such a machine. It is possible, but as it circumvents God's just and righteous laws, I abstained. We're not ready for such a machine now. Perhaps later, in the future."

Koudelka wiped away the hot mineral water from her face and looked down at the stone sitting on the lip of the pool. It had gotten wet and glistened softly, reflecting dimly the magical light on its surface.

"So he came from the future? And has done something to change the past," she said thoughtfully. "And he's been here before – more than tomorrow but yesterday. He's been here long enough to know this monastery well – _before_ the fire," she said. And when Roger nodded. "Do you trust him, Roger?" she asked.

The old man shrugged, the loose robe sliding down one shoulder, exposing skin drawn tight and browned with age.

"I do not know. Something about him seems to indicate we should; he's done no harm here."

"Yet he's quite mad you know," she finished up for him.

"Perhaps, but that has been said of me as well," Roger remarked.

Yuri ran until he could go no further, the darkened passage splitting off again and yet again and he ended up nose to metal, his face pressed against an ancient bronze door – the one beyond the water font and leading up to the ancient graveyard and Neameto. He leaned on the cold, moist metal, the bosses pressing into his cheek and the cold metal burning his face. Unheeded, tears coursed from his eyes and sobs wracked his chest. He cried, yet why he felt such sorrow, he didn't know. Something nagged at him, not the least was the name of the pretty girl he'd let die in Shanghai.

The thought rested like ice on his mind… the girl in Shanghai, the same one on the train…and again in the basement. How could they all be the same if she died in China, he wondered. Sliding down, he sat against the door, putting the cold metal to his back, his knees pulled up and his arms wrapped around them, his eyes peering into the dark around him, but seeing something else, some_where_ else.

He had awoken early because of a headache. He'd stood at the hotel window, the autumn air thick with mists and he silently cursed the voice and the pain. He had no money; he was not going to catch the train… why the hell should he? No, no, he _had_ caught the train, that's right. He'd awoken in the fields, sleeping on a hillside because he was tight with a yuan and saw no reason to spend it on a bed. The train's whistle had blown and he sat up, suddenly aware he had almost overslept. Looking up he saw the autumn stars and judged, by the full moon, that it was shortly after nightfall.

He rubbed his face with a gloved hand and then, knocking dirt from his trench coat, he set off for the train station. The platform was empty, any travelers having caught an earlier train, and with a grin, he looked down the tracks and wondered about the train and all the places it had traveled. Briefly, he wondered if he'd ever ride that train to its starting point in Europe, then he shook his head, laughing softly at himself. _Yeah, like I'd do that_, he thought.

Once the train arrived he boarded and noted the two cars at the end jammed with kids, dogs, goats and a few rifle toting Russians. He eyed them carefully before taking his sweet time walking up toward the salon car. Getting there he paused, peering in through the dirty glass in the door – _yup, Japanese soldiers_. _Now what the hell they doin' here_, he wondered. Cursing silently he took one of the first benches and, putting his back to the aisle, lay down for a nap, the trench coat pulled up over his ears, shielding his face from prying eyes. They didn't need to know he wasn't really sleeping.

He didn't have long to wait. The train had been chugging its way through the autumn night and was fast approaching the plains outside Jilin when footsteps alerted Yuri that someone was approaching. He squinted his eyes, watching the figure as he passed behind him, his reflection in the carriage glass showing a Western gentleman with top hat and tails. Besides being dressed oddly for the region, he also felt odd to Yuri, reeking of darkness class magic and ill intent. A second later, he knew he was right when gunshots came from the nearby car and Yuri leapt from his seat to kick open the car door. At the far end, where he had earlier seen the two Japanese soldiers, now lay two bleeding corpses, their heads severed and rolled part way down the isle.

He didn't hesitate even seeing that; the voice had told him to board the train and protect… exactly whom he didn't know. But something was going down and he wanted to be a part of it. He stepped over the blood, and opened the salon door, even as the echo of repeated gunshots dinned in the small carriage. The salon car too was awash now in blood, three more Japanese lying in pools of the crimson liquid and the man with the top hat gesturing toward –

As he stepped into the car, he felt a sharp pain. Something, some little demon, had attacked him! He caught its quick movements out of the corner of his eye and grabbed, catching the demonic thing and crushing its head. The little shit had severed his left arm and that hurt!

The western man spoke, his voice cultured, and Yuri heard him say he'd killed his favorite demon. _Tough shit_, he thought, _the little bastard had cut his arm off_. He bent down, retrieving the bloody appendage and, with a surge of power, reattached his left arm. Flexing the muscle, he turned a self-satisfied smirk onto the warlock, and then he spotted the girl. She was small, petite, with silver blonde hair pulled up into a braid secured by a blue bow. She was dressed in a very revealing outfit: short skirt with white lace ruffles and thigh high stockings but what caught his attention beyond her bust was her eyes – she had the most hauntingly blue eyes he had ever seen.

"Alice..."

He jerked up, eyes snapped open, half expecting a monster to be chewing on his leg. He looked around and spotted the old monk and Koudelka sitting a short distance away.

"Yo," he said and rose to his feet. "When did you two get here?"

"About an hour ago," Roger answered. "You were sleeping so we thought we'd let you rest."

"Are you all right, Yuri?" Koudelka asked and even in the near darkness, Yuri could make out the concern in her eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck as he joined them, squatting down to be at eye level.

"Yeah, I just ... needed to get some things into order. Sorry if I worried you."

"You do more than worry us," Koudelka remarked.

"Yuri," Roger interrupted, "did you travel through time to reach this place?"

Yuri blinked then snorted, swallowing the laugh that threatened to burst forth. "Damn, you just come right out, don't you," he said, then sighed. "Yeah, I guess that's what I did. You oughta know, it was your machine that did it to me. But I admit, it was me that did the messing up."

Roger nodded, his long, stringy hair falling into his face. "As I thought. At some time I must have built the device that I once dreamed of. And as result, you came here."

"So you didn't just arrive here, did you?" Koudelka asked.

With another sigh, Yuri sat down, folding his legs beneath him. "No, no I didn't. I don't know if I should tell ya this, cuz you're both involved. But it was an accident. I screwed up somehow and ended up here. And I heard fighting goin' on in the church and went to help. And stupid me, I got you killed." He looked up at Koudelka, her small glowing light wobbling slightly, casting pale silvery light and making even darker shadows. "By the time I helped roger build his house an' get the machine made, I had to go back and fix it, ya know?"

"Well, obviously you did... somehow," Koudelka said with a quirk to her lips.

"Yeah," he said and looked down at his leather-clad legs, picking at a bit of dried blood on one knee. "But I still had trouble too; an' I had to go back again... an' now I think everything is right. I hope," that last said with a breathy sigh. He refused to look up at the two and waited for them to comment. After long minutes he finally peeked through his lashes at Roger; the old monk was staring at him, a look of calculation on his wizened features. "What?"

"If what you say is true, Yuri, then you've changed history," Roger said.

Yuri opened his mouth to speak, but his voice refused to work. His jaw opened and closed a few times and then he shrugged. "Well, yeah. I guess. I mean, I was tryin' not to. But I fixed it. An' really, I think we're supposed to be doing this," and he gestured around them at the dark basement of the monastery.

"Why?"

"Cuz I remember alla this from before."

"When you first came here by accident?" Koudelka asked.

"No, when I first came here with Alice." He paused, letting the sound of the name sooth his breast, his memory of her washing over him like a balm and he lost his train of thought as the sights and sounds of her filled his mind: that night on the plains, when he tried to touch her, and she squeaked in fear and outrage; then the long walk to Fengtian - and how much he admired her spunk after fighting in the village of the damned. Her dedication and devotion to him on the boat ride from Dalian to Shanghai, and how she had looked that day when he'd rescued her from Dehuai's damned spirit machine. That old perv of a warlock had said things to her that Yuri wished he had skinned the old bastard alive for uttering - and threats too. But Alice's greatest gift to him had been in Romania, in Keith's castle and oh, how he wished he were back home with her right this very minute! Sighing deeply, he continued.

"We came here to look you up, Roger. Koudelka had told us to come to you because of someone we were fighting. We ended up here, in the monastery fighting this warlock an' well, there were seals and such, and the stone of course. But really, even alla that started in China with you," and he looked up at Koudelka. "I don't know how you knew about me, or how you knew to find me. But your voice, your mind, reached out to me in a really dark time an' guided me. Sent me to help people an' I got stronger and better, and when the time came, I was there, ready to help Alice. For that, I'll always be grateful."

"Is this Alice someone special to you?" she asked from the shadows, the implications of what he had just admitted not lost on her. She had just been told of her future: that she would know him and touch his life from half a world away.

Yuri grinned, and his smile lit his face. "Yeah, she's my savior, my lover... my wife; and the mother of my kid." And the thought crossed his mind that this woman too was his lover and the mother of his twin children, but that now, in this time and place, now she would never be that and a part of him cried silently for love lost.

"You left her behind then, when you got sent back," Koudelka said softly. "I'm sorry. Will you be able to return? Is it even possible?"

Yuri shrugged. "Let's finish the seals and shit, an' I'll think about that for a while."

"That sounds like an excellent idea," Roger said. "Much as I am curious about this wonderful machine you say I built, and for the things that happened in the future, we still must deal with today, and I don't like this place at all," Roger finished.

Standing, Yuri looked around, his amber eyes focusing on the bronze doors. "Yeah, neither do I." He turned his gaze onto the diminutive monk and laughed. "It gives me the creeps."

They set to work building the elaborate seals that Yuri remembered from before – setting the Stone of Destruction in the bubbling waters, putting some items and weapons in chests to help hold the seals intact. Then, finally, writing cryptic clues on the stone walls. Yuri repeated several times the words he'd read on these same walls fifteen years in the future, and Koudelka and Roger carved them into stone. Finally, they all climbed back to the surface to discover they'd spent the night in the basement and the sun was peeking out of the clouds in the east.

"Well, I'm for sleep," Yuri said, not even trying to stifle his huge yawn. Without another word, he headed back to the caretaker's quarters, leaving Koudelka and Roger to follow behind.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

A/N Lots of confusion here folks, and I'm sorry about that. But it will make sense in the end, trust me. I don't own Shadow Hearts, or Koudelka, but I've played the daylights out of the Director's Cut of SH2 and ooolalaa! ducks from in-coming thrown objects (Hey! Be grateful you don't have to be killed 30 times by the 7-headed God of Doom!)

* * *

Yuri slept late the next morning, finally climbing out of his tumbled bed and joining Roger in his daily hunt for books and items about mid-day. When they broke for lunch, Roger fixed left-over stew and Yuri finally realized someone was missing.

"Hey Rog, where's Koudelka?"

Roger was squatting on the stool in front of the kitchen fireplace, stirring the pot, and ignored the question until Yuri insisted and shoved his shoulder.

"I asked, where's Koudelka," he said.

Roger sighed. "She left early this morning. She said her work here was done and she had places to go... people to see," the old hermit replied, not looking at Yuri. The fighter squatted down next to Roger and looked at him, his amber eyes burning.

"Why," he asked softly. "Did I do something to frighten her away?"

Roger moved the pot away from the fire and turned his wide eyes onto Yuri. "Yes and no," he replied. "We had a little chat yesterday after you went to sleep. She – " Roger sighed. "You did give her some frightening moments Yuri and she said... she said she needed to be away from here. This place still disturbs her, as do you."

Yuri, sitting on his heels, looked at Roger like he'd been hit in the gut. "I- I didn't realize... I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I've been confused about a lotta stuff, an' I didn't mean..."

Roger turned toward Yuri and patted his hand with his own boney brown fingers. "Let it rest, boy. You seem to have come back from a long journey."

Yuri did not respond, instead he sat staring into the fire while Roger returned to heating the stew. After they ate, he picked up the dishes and cleaned them silently, his thoughts prodding painfully at what he should do now. He hadn't thought about it. Hadn't dreamed he'd be stuck here, in Nemeton, with only Roger. He remembered that last day, the day he had said goodbye to Koudelka and his twins. A sudden pain shot through him at the thought of his two beautiful babies, now nothing more than memories, dreams on the wind. As he scraped the bowls clean and set them on the table, he felt tears well up in his eyes, splashing down his cheeks to splatter on the table and he suddenly closed his eyes, hands gripping the table edge tightly, as the last memories filled his mind: sitting around the fire, holding little Halley and baby Katie; the night they first suckled and Yuri holding one while Koudelka gave her breast to the other, greedy Halley sucking and slurping while Katie fussed softly in her father's strong arms; the night they were born and he was all panic and fear over what was nature's way – thank God for old Roger. Each backward thought, each memory, nestled into a corner of his mind, for though it happened for him, to him, he knew now that it had never happened for Koudelka and never would – not with him. And his jaw clenched to hold back the anguished tears that threatened to overwhelm him.

When Roger realized Yuri had stopped moving he came up to him, hearing the soft sobs that escaped the fighter and he cleared his throat.

"Ah- Yuri..." he said, "I know you have feelings for the girl."

Yuri sniffed and wiped his face, rubbing away tears with a dirty sleeve.

"No, no, it's all right, Rog," Yuri said, taking a deep breath. "I – I had it in my head we'd go back to being together only..." he sniffed again and didn't finish, instead putting away the cleaned dishes.

"You lived together?" Roger asked, "when you were in this time before?"

Yuri nodded. "Yeah; an' we had kids – twins. I really liked bein' a dad an' all."

Roger's eyes widened and he felt a trembling in his limbs for this young man. He knew, from his own youth, what it meant to love a woman. And he knew the calling of wanting to be a father in fact more than name. He could understand what feelings were struggling within the breast of this stranger out of time.

"I'll help you get back, if that's what you want," he offered quietly.

Yuri shook his head without thinking. "No, but thanks. I've – I've already fucked things up twice now. If I go back again… 'sides, I have Alice," and he paused, a strange look on his face for a moment, as if the memories were settling in amidst the jumble that had become his brain. "If she's still there; if she waited for me."

Roger blinked, one hand covering his chin in thought. "Well, I don't know why she wouldn't wait for you. You said you were married?"

Yuri nodded. "An' we were having our first kid," he replied, then a big grin burst forth and his eyes lit up. He took a deep breath and sighed, a big breathy release that sent the stress of the past days into some breathy nether region. "If I did everything right, then she's alive, at home, waiting for me." And he didn't pursue that thought, merely holding his mind on the idea that Alice, his beloved wife, was waiting at home with their baby-to-be, and Roger refrained from commenting.

_If I did everything right_. Roger knew that God's universe was never so simple. But how to be sure that this young madman had indeed set the wheels of the stars right in their courses? "Yuri," he began and tapped the younger man's elbow. "As best you can, tell me what happened."

Yuri looked down at the little old man and chuckled. "You don't wanna hear all that. 'Sides, I'm not sure I could."

"And why not?"

Yuri rubbed the back of his head with one hand, his eyelids sliding down, narrowing his eyes. He looked to Roger like he was hiding something and the monk was about to say so when Yuri sighed.

"Cuz mostly I can't," he answered. _How do I explain what I don't understand_, he wondered. _That it's all a jumble, confused, an' I don't know what's real and what ain't_. "Mostly it's a mess in here," he said and tapped his head. "I got zapped by your machine and ended up here," and he pointed at the floor, indicating the monastery, "An' I fucked things up. I had to fix 'em cuz, if I didn't, then the world would all change, ya know? You helped me get back to do that. An' now it should be all right."

"And how can you be sure of that if, as you say, your mind is confused?"

Yuri laughed. "Cuz Koudelka's alive, Edward's alive, an' James isn't," he replied. "It may not be exactly what was, but at least Koudelka will have Halley now an' not by me. An' all I gotta do is figure out how to return to my own time."

"Go forward in time?" Roger asked, and then shook his head. "I don't know..."

Yuri chuckled. "It's all right old man. I think I know what I gotta do. I won't like it, an' I may go mad in the doin'... but it'll be all right in the end."

"You say that as if that doesn't bother you," Roger said, frowning up at the fusionist.

"Well, I don't mean that," Yuri said and his eyes lit up with a devil-may-care expression that had Roger's knees trembling beneath his robes. "But it'll be one hell of a ride."

Yuri spent the rest of the day helping Roger set up his books and equipment in the caretaker's quarters. Yuri had asked if Roger needed help laying the foundation for his new home but the old man, to Yuri's immense relief, refused. Roger told him he could get cheap labor from the nearby town of Aberystwyth and Yuri nodded, grateful for the reprieve. They shared a quiet supper and Yuri spooned his stew mindlessly, hand to bowl to mouth, without appearing to know what he was doing. Roger watched him for a bit, before finally patting him on the shoulder and going to bed. Yuri sat alone, watching the fire banked in the pit, the occasional pop and hiss of the coal the only sound in the kitchen. He hadn't told Roger or Koudelka the whole truth, he didn't know what that was himself. He knew in his heart how to return to his proper place – with Alice – mostly because of his disjointed dreams and memories. He found himself remembering more things from before, images flashing in his mind that made him blink and his heart race. Like the waking dream he had of the battle at Shanghai.

That fight haunted him long after it's conclusion, first in the very battle itself, his striving to put paid to Dehuai and the summoned god, Seraphic Radiance, and again, months later, when his soul had been washed clean by the sacrifice of his beloved Alice. The nearness of the thing, the near failure, and the near death that dogged his footsteps through Europe, still sent shivers down his spine, and Yuri rubbed his hands together over the fire, trying to warm them.

_I know you're listening_, he thought. _I know as sure as I'm sittin' here_. He felt a tingle in his mind, a fluttering of dark wings and his vision blurred ever so slightly as he felt the fusion moving within his soul. This one was strong, it had personality, strength and will, and it was only his own will, his own strength of personality, which kept it in check. And now he contemplated the very thing that made his soul quake in fear, made his mind gibber like a mewling infant. With a sigh he rose, looking once more around the dark kitchen, as if sealing the picture in his mind, of this place and time. Then he took the stairs out to the hallway and left, making his way out to the main gates.

He paused on the dirt road, looking down over the dark valley. The wind from off the sea blew cold, whipping his coat around his legs, and he sniffed, smelling the tang of salt on the wind and, looking up, he saw dark clouds forming on the horizon. It would rain again before sunup, but now it was cold and clear. Overhead, the stars winked at him, their pinpricks of light a dazzle of crystals in the velvet black of the sky, and Yuri hoped he'd see them again. With one last look around, he called on his fusion, letting the power and might of Seraphic Radiance join with him as his black wings opened and he took flight.

The cold wind of November lashed over his naked body as Seraphic Radiance flew out over the Irish Sea; below him was the grey boil of the ocean, while above was the black basalt of the night sky. The waning moon was a sliver in the east, and the pregnant storm clouds moving in from off shore were a bank of black cotton. Unconcerned, he turned into the wind, feathers fluttering as the wind tore past him. Higher he climbed, losing the clouds and ocean in the fog of distance; the world was beneath him, the puny lives of man and beast, playing out their mundane stories, was beneath him as well. Gone were the ties that bound him to this world, as was the warmth and caress of human flesh. Now, space beckoned, the cold blink of icy stars, the path to his journey.

Finally, he leveled off, the air nearly gone in the thinness of the mesosphere; the crackle and fire of the aurora danced over his head, a greeting to the God out of Shanghai, and Seraphic Radiance let a smile play across his face as he looked down on the earth, slowly spinning beneath him. In the east, still in darkness, lay Shanghai, the very place he had been drawn to this world. And the very place he would return to it.

With the flip of one ebony-feathered wing, the Seraphic Radiance moved eastward, the atmosphere burning past him in his flight. Light and dark and light again whipped past him, the stars in their heavens streaked past as well, and the land was a blur of motion until finally, finally far below, was Shanghai. And for a brief moment, a fleeting heartbeat, the Seraphic Radiance and Yuri hovered above the Asian continent before plunging down into the darkness of China.

His world exploded, the light and dark of their passage, the thrill of flying without thought, became an enticement, a candy for his delight; and when he reached the upper layers high above the earth, he let it go... he let control loose on his most powerful fusion. And he knew a moment of total elation at his near infinite power before he knew a matching moment of total fear. What had he done?

Darkness - all around him like a soft blanket. Yuri opened his eyes and saw the true darkness that was within as well, and shuddered. He'd let the Seraphic go, just like that. And it took them somewhere, some _when_... What had possessed him? What thought had pierced his stupid brain to let the Seraphic Radiance control them both? And now, now look at him! He kicked out with one booted foot only to feel... what, nothing? _Ah, shit_.

But there was substance beneath his boots, and he could walk and he did, stomping his booted feet on the dark nothingness that was his ground. He stomped and stomped until his feet stung, tingling in their boots and he snorted at himself for being such a fool.

"Okay, where the hell am I?" he asked the darkness and the darkness replied with silence. "Fuck me," he muttered and the darkness responded with images of madness.

Blurry, insubstantial, yet solid images, that when he reached out with his fingers, bruised his hand, his arm, his mind. Startled, he blinked and the vision changed – suns, moons, stars, all circling around in perfect orbits, like drawings in a notebook – and he frowned, wondering where he would ever have seen such a thing to know what they look like, then remembered, he'd had some schooling with the village kids back in China. But this, this was more along the lines of what he'd seen in the notebooks of Roger Bacon and suddenly the visions changed again, and he felt an answering pressure. Confusion, anger, awareness, and a sudden wrenching as he was flung upward, the darkness of before now a scream of flashing lights and senses-shattering color, exploding, merging, blending into sickening forms before exploding again and again. Sick to his stomach, Yuri fell to his knees and retched.

The child was ill; he could not take the visions of the world, the world as seen by the eyes of God. Poor pathetic thing... rolling on the ground like a toy. A thought, and the boy rolled to one side, his arms and legs flung out in confused abandon; another thought, and the child now flew into space, his body a mere speck. How amusing. The boy was here now… he had always been here _now_… but the now was changing. Voices spoke God's name, magic's called God forth and wrenched open the skies, pulling God out to stand judgment on the summoners.

Yuri was tossed and tumbled in the darkness; he had vague memories of having done this before… wasn't he swallowed up by the god in Shanghai? The memory of that great city, engulfed in the rosy red flowers of flame, suddenly replaced the darkness that had seeped into his mind. Now he saw the great city, laid out below him with its inhabitants in their hundreds of thousands. Small, insignificant little things, why did they have to bother him now? He was trying to get his world in order, to settle things down to one image, one memory, one damned soul instead of eighteen. Wait, why so many?

_Oh, damn_, he thought, _there's that boy again. He's there. Waiting. I'll just go have a look-see._ Yuri went to the gate and stood by the posts, watching as the young boy came to the fence, trying desperately to squeeze through the bars of the gate. Behind him, his form swirling in darkness, the first fusion pursued. Yes, yes, nightmares were always pursuing him. Now however, it would catch him. Yuri watched as Death's God grabbed up the child and swallowed him, opening his mouth to breathe out black breath that stank of graves and cinders; it enveloped the screaming ten year old, and Yuri looked down at him and laughed silently. He reached up and adjusted the mask on his face, a feeling of self-satisfaction replacing the confusion of earlier… wait, when had he been confused… oh, right, when his mother had been killed and his father had left him and he –

He felt the pull of magic and turned toward the gate; its once black solidity now wrapped in white mist. Curious, he stepped through the bars, not feeling the cold metal at all, and made his way to the main gates of the graveyard. _Yes, there is something just on the other side_, he thought. _If I step through_…

The fields were wrapped in the same white mist as the graveyard, the sky a diamond-speckled coverlet, but the earth was cold and damp with mist. He looked around and saw the derelict building and a glance behind him revealed the sluice gates gurgling in the dark. He looked down, and saw a shadow rise from a nearby fire and he grinned.

"Heh, at last we meet."

The shadowy figure resolved into the boy, a little older than before, but still younger, less experienced, ripe for picking.

"Father?" he asked. "W-what are you doing here?" and the boy reeked of fear.

He gestured at the sleeping girl next to the now smoking ruin of the fire.

"You should thank her; it's because of her power that I am even here." He gazed down at the sleeping girl. "So beautiful; you don't deserve her."

"What are you talking about? Stay away!"

The boy was filled with fear and Yuri could smell it; like blood, like sex, it was intoxicating, and he leapt at the boy, summoning his own dark fusion and sending the child to the ground, bloody and whimpering.

"You're pathetic," he said and came over to use the toe of his boot to flip the young man over onto his back. Looking down, he could see the unshed tears on the lashes, the pain held in the chest like a talisman, the fear oozing from every pore. "How the hell did you ever make it this far? You better get yer shit together or I'll kick yer ass again."

The younger man rose from the smoke of the front gate, his eyes wide and vacant. He smelled of fear again, and he stumbled to the gate, past the mausoleum, Yuri watching him. The inner gates swung back and he stumbled in, falling to his knees on the grassy knoll. With his fingers, he began to dig at the ground, pulling handfuls of dirt and grass back with every rake of his fingers. After a few times the gloves shredded and he used his fingernails to gouge the soil. Disgusted, Yuri joined him, squatting at his side and watching in silence.

Finally, he rose and offered a hoe to the silently digging young man.

"Here, dig," he commanded and then leaned back against the old gnarled oak, his arms folded across his chest, the warmth of the autumnal setting sun glowing orange against his green army coat.

Time passed, he knew that, but how long was long, how much time was time... he grew bored. He began teasing the hapless idiot forever digging his grave. Gods but he was slow! One time he took the hoe and broke it in twain offering just the stub back to watch the younger man struggle with just the bits. Stupidly, stubbornly, idiotically, he continued to dig, and Yuri noticed the subtle points of tears on the idiot's lashes.

"What? You crying, stupid? You did this to yourself! You've only got yourself to blame!" and he took the opportunity to deal some painful judgement on himself, leaving the younger man to bleed it over. "Stupid fuck."

The last thing he expected was the girl. Oh god, she is so beautiful. Now why he'd forgotten she had come here... She paused at each of the graves on her way to the mausoleum, gently touching each cold and dreary stone as if reading the souls locked within. Finally, she moved on, stopping at the mausoleum, speaking with those damned cursed masks; he could hear her soft voice and the cruel, vicious laughter of the masks – curious, he approached the gate, leaning closer to the posts, and half-invisible in the green coat.

"_You wish to sacrifice your body, your heart, your very life over to the lad_?" one of the masks asked, that floating ego that was the Staff Mask. Alice looked around, confused.

"_The boy's soul is seeking death... retreating to the memories of his childhood; a place with no suffering, where no one can hurt him_," the mask replied, this one a sword and shield. Yuri hated that one the most and at its words, turned back up the hill to his plaything.

"_You hear that? She's coming to help you, you bastard_," he said and aimed a vicious kick at the younger man's ribs. "_You don't deserve her you fuck! You mess up everything you touch – she'll sacrifice her soul for you and you – you! – will you have the brains to figure out how to stop that? Will you? **Will you**?_" that last was punctuated with another kick and then, in disgust, he went down the hill behind the tree, waiting for the inevitable. He knew what was coming and dreaded it. He didn't mind fighting his own soul, relished it as it gave him payback for his years of stupid suffering. But he'd have to face Alice again, and that hurt. He loved her; he missed her – and he wanted nothing more than to be home with her now... but they weren't married now, they weren't a couple now... now he was a stupid idiot groveling on the ground, praying for death because he was an egotistical fool and tried to save Shanghai from a god.

He heard her footsteps and her soft voice behind him, and listened as she tried to reach him. No, he wasn't trying to save Shanghai. That was the problem. He was half trying to show off to the girl and half trying to die – to be with his father. Well, in a way, he succeeded. He almost died. But the god spat him out again like a bit of rotten meat, left him deaf, dumb and blind to the world while his soul retreated into the oblivion of memory.

Reaching down, he pulled up a blade of grass, twirled it around in his fingers, remembering those past dreams. The thing that kept him going all those years alone – the idea that he'd find his father... he knew damned well his father was dead, had hoped otherwise even until Zhuzhen confirmed it. How else could his soul fusion have begun? His mother's blood running over his fingers as he tried to push her guts back in where the zombies had disemboweled her... The fire of his blood awakening, the first fusion exploding out of his mind and heart like a demon of vengeance and he wished, he prayed, his father would come home. But of course, he hadn't and so he'd begun his years of traveling; fighting, working in gangs, being a thief... taking the hard road more than the easy one. Where had it said his life had to be hell? Where had it been written that he'd have to pay for the sins of the whole fucking world? Was he supposed to be the sacrifice? His life, the crucible?

Yuri shook his head, the sudden cry of "Stop it right now!" in Alice's raised voice catching his attention. She was there, now, trying to get that stupid boy's attention. Well, enough of this! He climbed to his feet and stepped out from behind the tree. His younger self was wiping the sweat from his brow, looking in bewildered pride at Alice.

"Heh heh, aren't I a good boy? I've got to help dad any way I can," he said and Yuri wanted to put his fist right through that stupid face.

"This is not a garden," Alice cried, her voice full of anguish over Yuri's condition. "You're digging your own grave!"

"_And do you think he's worth all that_?" he said as he came around the tree, and then stopped, looking down at Alice. His heart leapt into his throat, he had trouble breathing for a moment, and he almost missed her shouted comment.

"You, you put Yuri under a spell, didn't you," she said and her ice blue eyes looked up at him accusingly.

_"Now__ wait a second here. **He** chose to dig his own grave,"_ and Yuri laughed softly. _"I only helped a little."_ Yuri came down the hill to stand in front of the beguiling young woman who had saved his soul so long ago. _"He's a failure, he failed to protect his mother, he failed to match his father, he failed in __Shanghai__… What's left of him just wants to crawl in a hole and die. I'm only helping him, see?"_

Alice gestured at him, her arms encompassing both Yuri digging his grave and the Fox Faced man. "You're his father! Why do you make him suffer so?"

Yuri snorted and walked down to the digging youth, his arms folded on his chest. _"I'm not making him suffer. He's a frightened little weakling. He thinks all the monsters he has fused with will devour his soul. What an idiot! _'I don't want to turn into a monster!'_ he screams every time he fuses. He'd piss his pants if I let him. He can't bear the dark fate of a harmonixer,"_ he said with scorn.

At his feet, the younger man stopped digging, wiping his sweating brow once more before looking up at him. "Dad, how much do I have to do? Should I keep digging?"

_"Deeper, idiot. Dig deeper!"_ The younger man began to dig again and Alice moved in, hesitantly. "_You are responsible for everyone's misery! So much regret – so many lies-"_ Yuri raised his fist to smash the boy again but Alice intervened.

"Yuri is not weak!" she cried. "There's still hope and courage left in him; he's a fighter," she said just as Yuri's fist came down and smashed into her cheek. Yuri felt instant horror at his actions, the anger he was feeling toward himself, the truth of his own words coming back to wrench his heart and soul… how could he hit her, he thought, his mind screaming deprecations at himself.

The Yuri digging his grave looked up suddenly as Alice hit the ground hard. Her words, mixed with her sobs, were garbled, but they came clear when she looked up at the masked man.

"You wouldn't understand! You can't believe in anything!" she exclaimed and Yuri shook his head, puzzled.

_"You – you **cry** for **him**?"_ Yuri said, still warring inside from hitting Alice, and wanting to punish the young harmonixer for being such as ass. To his surprise, the young man tossed aside his hoe and climbed out of the grave, scrambling to Alice's side. _"What do you think you're doing?" _he asked_. "Keep digging!"_

But the youth ignored him, offering a hand to the beautiful woman at his knees, dabbing at the blood that seeped ever so slowly from her cut cheek. And Yuri, watching this, suddenly wanted to kill the stupid boy; a jealous rage filled him and he leapt at the younger man, flattening him to the ground, punching him in the face before pushing off and giving him a kick to the ribs.

"_Damn it!"_ he yelled. "_You touch her? You turning against me now, you fucking idiot?_" Yuri was angry and not caring anymore if what he said made sense. He wanted to flatten his younger self, teach him the errors of his ways, how the stupidity that he had lived with his whole life was a lie, and all his fault! But the younger man climbed slowly to his feet, wiping blood from his lips with a dirty arm.

"You," he said through gritted teeth. "You're not my dad…"

Yuri watched in amazement as the younger man suddenly stood straighter, his shoulders pulled back, a look in his eyes of both life and hope. Hope. The one thing he'd lost and never thought to find – and Alice gave it to him, freely, with her love, with her kindness and with her soul. Suddenly he looked up at his younger self and laughed bitterly, just as the younger man's fist met his face, cracking the mask in two.

"Yup. No problem! No matter how many times I lose, or collapse, or spit blood… As long as I have my life, and as long as I don't give up… I can always stand up and fight again!" the younger man said and the graveyard spun around them, and they faded from view.

Yuri, lying on his back in the graveyard, merely laughed as the graveyard blurred, shifted and finally faded away.

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A/N: Well here it is, the next to last chapter. We finally got here. Stay tuned, the few of you braving this long piece.

I want to thank those who have read and reviewed; it's been a kindness for a strange story. I also want to thank AriesCelestial, whose initial idea spawned this mother in the dark recesses of Miko's mind. Gods help us all!


	20. Chapter 20

This is it, the final chapter. If you've made it this far, I thank you. This piece too over a year to write and I greatly appreciate anyone who was patient enough to wait for it. Again, I thank AriesCelestial for the initial idea... it's a far cry from where it started, neh?

Disclaimer: I don't own Shadow Hearts or Koudelka, so legal action would be a total waste!

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Chapter 20 

The old Ford turned up Petticoat Lane and came to a loud, shuddering halt just down from Old Castle Street. The engine stopped with a bang, smoke billowed out of the bonnet, and soon the young man driving it was storming around the machine and kicking it with damaging intent. But the old truck merely smoked and refused to start.

"Damned stupid piece of shit!" Yuri Hyuga cursed and then stopped himself, looking in through the dingy windshield to see his wife sitting in the passenger seat. "Oops, sorry," he amended with a sigh. He went around the front and opened her door, helping her out with an apologetic grin.

"I guess we'll have to walk," he said and his wife, Alice, smiled warmly, a look of infinite patience in her ice-blue eyes.

"That's all right, I don't mind." She reached in, pulled out the shopping bag from the truck seat, and handed it to Yuri. "Here, carry this for me?"

"Yeah," he said and then offered her his arm. "Walk with me?" he asked, looking down at her with both husbandly and child-like pride. Alice Hyuga nodded and took his arm as they walked their way up the road toward Koudelka's house. The walking was slow, with Alice being very pregnant and Yuri couldn't help wanting to pick her up and carry her himself, but he resisted, especially after that last time.

He had taken her shopping, which in itself was never his strong suit, but they needed things for the baby, and so they had gone into town. Alice had spent hours checking first one small store then another for clothing, nappies, bassinette... all the useless things that mothers always felt a baby needed. By the time she was finished with her shopping, Alice's feet were swollen and walking had become painful and slow and Yuri, playing the attentive father-to-be, became frustrated with the slow pace and took the items to the truck before returning to hoist his wife into the air. He wouldn't have done it if he'd known she was packing; well, truthfully, he would have – but he would have ducked as well. Out of the blue, that little black book of hers came slamming down right into his face, bruising his eyebrow and bending his nose. The whole way to the truck, Alice pummeled him head and shoulders with her little bible and he, being the man, took the punishment. But he never forgot that lessen in wifely dignity and so refrained from the urge to hurry her along.

They turned the corner onto Old Castle Street, passed by Carl's dilapidated old house, and on to Koudelka's home. It too had seen better days, the upper floor windows were still boarded over, but the ground floor now had glass windows with heavy drapes to keep out the chill, and the front door, with its huge, and probably stolen, brass knocker, sported a new coat of paint as well. Eyeing the paint as they turned up the walk, Yuri couldn't help but wonder whose idea the bright yellow had been. Not that he minded yellow, but this yellow was like buttercups – and the only use Yuri ever had for buttercups was gathering them for his wife when they were playing in their backyard. Beside him, Alice was stifling her giggles, knowing full well what Yuri was thinking, and she pointed at the door.

"Sharon, it has to be Sharon," she said.

Yuri rubbed the back of his neck and laughed. "Yeah, yer probably right."

He climbed the three steps to the door and used the knocker, banging hard on the wooden door, making dust fly in the air around him. Alice waived it away, squinting at her husband with a look that said he was behaving quite childish, and a fleeting thought of her foot meeting his shin. Yuri was saved however when the door swung quickly inward revealing a little dark-haired scamp of a girl.

"Sharon," Yuri said with a grin.

The little pig-tailed girl looked up at her giant-sized friend and grinned back at him, pulling the door open the rest of the way.

"Unka Yuri," she squealed and instantly launched herself onto his legs, grabbing them with both arms and holding on tight. "Ride, ride, ride," she chanted and Yuri dropped the shopping bag and pried her arms off one leg in order to stride down the hall, leaving Alice to close the door behind them. Sharon's squeals and giggles preceded them into the family room and the ever-reserved Chris and young Joshua greeted Yuri. Chris was sitting at a small table with cloth and thread stitching repairs onto the children's clothing, while Joshua sat amidst his collection of oddities, laid out on the ratty carpet. He jumped up and joined Sharon on Yuri's legs, and the Alice's husband found himself hauling two children the rest of the way down the hall to the kitchen.

"Help," he called. "Help, somebody bring a crowbar," he called out, the two kids giggling loudly.

At the end of the hall, Halley, his grinning boyish face looking at him from the kitchen door, watched Yuri. But instead of helping with the two hanging baggage, he held open the door and Yuri, with a smirk, shuffled through. In the kitchen Koudelka stood at the stove, an apron wrapped round her middle and her auburn hair tied back with a scarf. On the table were jars and lids and the woman was ladling fruit into the jars on the stove.

"How goes the preserving, Missy?" Yuri asked, which earned him a raised eyebrow.

"Sharon, Joshua, let go of Yuri and go help Chris in the other room; I want to speak to your uncle Yuri alone."

"Ahh do we have to?" chimed two childish voices, then they both let go of Yuri's legs and looked up at him, big grins on their faces.

"Thanks Unka Yuri," Sharon said and then sprinted from the kitchen.

"Yeah, thanks," Joshua echoed and was right behind her.

"Hey! Watch out!" Alice cried from the hallway and in another moment, she joined them in the kitchen.

"You all right?" Halley asked, then "Wow, yer really preggo!"

"Yes," Alice said with a deep blush and she caught sight of Yuri preening silently beside the table. "Not that it took much to do it," she added. Yuri deflated and took off his coat, draping it on a nearby stool before retrieving the bag of gifts.

"We brought stuff," he said gracelessly and set the bag on the floor by the table.

"You didn't have to, you know," Koudelka said, knowing how limited their income was. Yuri had a habit of bringing knickknacks to the children and Alice always managed to find something useful; but their income was no better than hers, although she appreciated the help.

"For the children mostly," Alice said and helped herself to a chair. With a sigh, she sat down and Yuri was instantly there, rubbing her legs and looking like a worried husband. Koudelka stood, hands on hips, watching for a moment, these two friends in her kitchen, and turned back to the stove as a small smile began to worm its way onto her lips. No sense letting them see how happy she was for them: they wouldn't appreciate it anyway.

"How have you been, Koudelka?" Alice finally asked. "Are the younger children doing all right in school?"

Koudelka nodded as she finished ladling and set the jars into a pan to seal.

"Yes, Joshua has taken to his studies and Sharon is coming along," she said, rubbing her hands on her apron. "Chris refuses and I suppose that's all right; she's a bit old for school anyway."

"Yeah, I never went to school and I do all right," Yuri commented from the floor.

"You're a fine example," Koudelka said and her voice dripped humor.

Alice tapped Yuri on his shoulder. "Why don't you help with dinner and I'll take the gifts to the children," she suggested.

"You sure? All right," Yuri got to his feet and helped Alice to hers, handing her the bag before turning to grin at Koudelka.

"Okay, what do you want me to break?"

Dinner that night went well overall. Yuri, in spite of his attempts, did not break anything, and the meal of spaghetti and meat sauce with salad was well received. Yuri's suggestion of noodles had worried Koudelka, especially as the last time they had them Yuri and Halley ended up wearing noodles and the dinning room had been painted in tomato sauce. The competition between her son and Yuri was, at times, uncontrollable. But this time Yuri had been the perfect uncle, regaling the children with stories of his learning to fight at his father's hands, and Halley had lapped up Yuri's humorous First Monster Battles. Halley thought of Yuri as an older brother and wanted to emulate him more than Koudelka would have wished, but Yuri saw things in Halley that reminded him of his own youth, and he seemed to enjoy Halley's company. Besides, it gave her time to be with Alice, as the two women had much to talk about, but most lately, the topic was raising children.

After supper, Yuri corralled Halley and the two of them cleared the table. Alice was biting her lower lip as Yuri tossed plates to Halley and the young man stacked them high, balancing bowls on top. Chris picked up silverware and glasses and led the way to the kitchen, Halley teetering and tottering with the ill balanced load. Halley managed to avoid crashing into the table, and made it around to the sink where Yuri quickly offloaded the dishes and began to run the water; it was a miracle nothing was broken. Alice, breathing a deep sigh, went upstairs to rest while Koudelka went to supervise the three-ring circus in the kitchen.

Halley washed, Koudelka dried, and Yuri cleaned the pots and pans, and when the last dish was washed Halley left, leaving the fusionist alone with his mother. Yuri grinned at Koudelka as he wiped soap off the last pot, rinsing it under the faucet.

"He's not a bad kid," he said.

Koudelka smiled back. "No, and neither are you."

"Hey, I'm no kid!" Yuri exclaimed then laughed. "It's good he's gone though, cuz I got something I wanna ask you an' it's been on my mind lately."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Yuri said with a shrug and took the towel from Koudelka, drying the pot himself before hanging it from the rack by the stove. He was frowning when he turned back and pointed at the kitchen table with its array of mismatched stools. Koudelka slowly removed her apron and hung it from the peg on the kitchen door before sitting down. She folded her long fingered hands on the kitchen table, the well-used wood rough under her fingers.

"I been having these weird dreams lately, an' it kinda reminded me of when I first met ya," Yuri said and pulled out a stool to sit opposite her. He placed his own hands on the table as well, flat along the wood, the roughened knuckles large and bruised looking even after all this time of not fighting.

"What kind of dreams," Koudelka asked.

"Well, nothing really like _that_," he said with a laugh and looked at Kuodelka's golden eyes, trying to make light of his feelings, and then realized that this woman never needed to be coddled with humor. "Okay, look, I been dreaming strange stuff, like about China and when we traveled there; back when I first met Alice."

"And?"

Yuri looked down at his rough hands, noticing a hangnail and picking at it slowly while he gathered his thoughts.

"I know that you used to call to me, and tell me this 'n that, and I'd go off and do all sortsa things. An' I remember going to get Alice from the train," he chuckled still picking at his fingers. "How could I not. That first night as she slept by the fire while we were waitin' for the sluice to drain... I had my first meetin' with _him._"

Koudelka frowned, searching her memory for some illusive person that Yuri might have met back then.

"The sage, Zhuzhen?" she asked.

"No, no," Yuri shook his head and looked up to catch Koudelka's intense expression. "Fox Face – my other half. See, when I first used my power of fusion, my mom had just been killed an' my dad – well he was dead too and I had no idea what was happening or why. I just came awake from the biggest temper tantrum of my life to find my mom dead and me and the house covered in blood – the torn up body parts of the monsters decoratin' the floor. I did that, an' it scared crap outta me." Koudelka did not reply, simply nodded for him to continue.

"Well, I kept having nightmares after that, some loon in my dad's army coat chasin' me all over the place, an' the graveyard in my soul – I'd wake up in a sweat, monster's tryin' to eat me or some shit. And when you started calling to me, it got worse; cuz you was wakin' up something inside of me – making me psychotic like."

Koudelka smiled. "Psychic," she said softly. "Go on."

Yuri grinned at the correction and nodded. "But then that night, in the plains outside of Fengtian, the guy in the coat shows up for real: Fox Face... cuz he was always wearing the fox mask my dad gave me. An' it turns out it was a part of me I hadn't accepted – you know, the part that was strong enough to handle the monster inside."

Yuri looked down again, his fingers now working at a sliver in the tabletop, picking at it a little at a time.

"So you've been dreaming about him again? This fox faced person?"

"Well, see that's the thing. I ain't dreamed about him since then, but now alla sudden he's back. Well, in a strange way. It's like I'm dreaming about what happened back then, only I ain't. Cuz it's me that's wearin' the mask."

They remained silent for a while, Yuri slowly picking at the slivers in the table while Koudelka thought about his words. Yuri had never been good with words or expressing his true feelings; he could state the obvious, and tell just about anyone off in words that would peel paint, but when it came to articulating his thoughts, his feelings, he stumbled. Somewhere in this tale was something he was trying to say, something that bothered him and he didn't know how to tell her.

"You said yourself that Fox Face was a part of you," she said slowly.

"Yeah."

"And that you reconciled with him, when Alice and you met up again, correct? When she took the curse for you."

Yuri nodded. "An' I took the curse back and beat shit outta those masks and that damned Atmo-guy, yeah."

Koudelka smiled. "So is there some unfinished business between you and the masks?"

"Nah," Yuri said, shaking his head and looking up at Koudelka. His eyes were wide and he had the beginnings of a silly grin on his face. "I put those bastards in their place for good," he said.

"Then why are you dreaming this?" she asked.

Yuri snorted, reaching across suddenly and grabbing her hands. "That's what I'm askin' you," he said. "Why am I dreaming this shit alla sudden."

"I don't know Yuri, perhaps you are simply coming into balance with yourself."

"After all this time? Shit." He stayed silent, holding her hands in his, running his thumb around her palms, tracing the lines in her hands like a map, remembering holding her hands, hearing her voice... "Say, Koudelka, you never told me how you knew to call to me back then," he said.

Koudelka remained silent for a long moment then sighed. _So that's it – he's remembering_. "You told me."

"Huh?" he looked up.

"You don't remember, but – at Nemeton, you told me how I had reached out to you, and spoke to you, guiding you. I waited for you to arrive for a long time."

Yuri looked up into golden eyes and felt his world suddenly swirl. He put a foot down onto the kitchen floor to catch his balance, and grabbed the table ends, suddenly dizzy. He was seeing Fox Face, standing by the tree, knocking Alice down; he was digging his own grave – he was such a coward. He was standing by the tree, striking Alice, he was calling himself names, he was angry for being so stupid as to get stuck in this in the first place... letting Seraphic Radiance have control...

"Holy fucking shit," he muttered, and he laid his head down on the table.

"Yuri?"

The kitchen was spinning on its end and Yuri felt the table tilting and him sliding down, down, down some long dark tunnel. Confused images played in his mind: Alice and him standing on top of Kuihai Tower, she on her knees, panting, and him ready to tear the world apart to save her, to prove to her – to all of them – that he had what it took to conquer a god; rising on the winds of his power, rising higher and higher and finally consuming the god as it consumed him and, like a plaything, realizing he was nothing to this entity. And meeting himself on the hillside of his memories, and fighting his masked self for dominance and winning; standing by the fireplace at Roger's house, hearing about the coming of the alien god and holding two children in his arms, Koudelka sitting beside him and Seraphic Radiance rising above the monastery on wings of power and he, he just a little thing along for the ride. His world was shaking until he realized he'd slid to the floor and Koudelka was kneeling beside him, shaking his shoulder and calling his name.

"Yuri, Yuri, come back," she was saying, and there was worry enough in her that her aura glowed, a nimbus of black fire that made Yuri blink, squinting his eyes.

"I-I'm here," he said, "Stop shaking me."

Koudelka sat back on her heels and looked down at the fusionist with concern in her eyes.

"Are you all right? You suddenly just fell to the floor?" she said.

Yuri pushed himself up onto one elbow and shook his head. "You – everything got crazy for a minute there – I thought you said I told you..."

"I did, and you did," she said and stood, offering him a hand up which he refused as he climbed to his feet.

"I don't get it."

Koudelka rubbed her hands together and went to the stove, filling the kettle with water and lighting the burner before turning back to him, leaning against the stove.

"Let's have tea and we'll try to put this together, shall we?"

"Are you sayin' I really told you about me?" and Koudelka nodded. "But how?"

"I don't know Yuri," she replied and busied herself with getting the cups from the cupboard and fixing tea. When it was done, she brought the steaming cups to the table and sat down again, indicating Yuri should sit as well. He had stood in the center of the room, unmoving, unspeaking, like a statue, watching her every move – like a caged animal, before obeying.

"You want an explanation, but I cannot give you one," she said with a small shrug of her shoulders.

"But I don't... think I remember anything like that."

She waited for a minute then, "What made you faint?"

Yuri looked startled, then looked down at the cup. He'd circled his hands around the small ceramic circle and one thumb was playing idly with the handle, rubbing the sheen on it. With a shrug, he upended the cup, gulping down the hot tea.

"Ah god, that's hot," he breathed and then laughed at himself. "I ... I do dumb things sometimes."

"Including trying to change the subject ... when _you_ started the whole conversation in the first place," Koudelka said.

Guilt stamped on his face, Yuri didn't bother to hide. Guilt and a little fear. "Okay, it's true," he chuckled softly. "It scared me is all. Suddenly I could see Shanghai all over again; and Alice dying and then not dying. An' me getting swallowed up by that god – only I was also the one doing the swallowing." He shook his head. "Fuck me if I know what the hell I'm saying. But I remember seeing you and me in Wales and me holding..." suddenly he thought better of saying the next words and he froze, looking horrified at the gypsy woman across from him.

"Um, never mind," he finished.

Koudelka looked intently at Yuri, the gypsy woman knew he was bothered by his sudden vision, but at the same time avoiding talking about it. It made her smile slightly, as it reminded her of before – how brash he was, yet how vulnerable as well.

"All you ever said was that you had been at Nemeton before, that I had somehow called you out of your darkness, and brought you into the light; to help people, to save people, to save Alice and, ultimately, to save the world. I never understood what you meant, and you were not capable of telling me. I don't know how you got there or how you left," she said, avoiding the mention of Roger and his strange machines."

Yuri looked at her, puzzled and confused, and wanting so much to figure out the strangeness of his vision, when he suddenly shook his head and sighed.

"Ya know what? I have had so much weird shit happen to me in my life, that I should just chalk this up to more of the same. I think something happened – I don't know exactly what, it's all confused in here," and he reached up, tapping his forehead. "An' maybe you know an' maybe you don't know. But I figure whatever it was, it ain't gonna hurt me not to know." Quickly he reached out and took Koudelka's hand. "If you tell me I told ya sometime ago, to call me out of China, well then, I must have. I'll believe ya, cuz I trust you."

The stool scraped loudly on the floor when he rose and he walked around the table, pausing at her side and Koudelka looked up into amber eyes before rising to accept his embrace. His arms enfolded her and she held him close, the beat of his heart strong in her ears before he let her go.

"I'm gonna check on Alice," he said and left the kitchen.

Koudelka watched him go and wondered what she had just missed; and if missing it would be a bad thing.

Yuri took the stairs to the upstairs guestroom two at a time, pausing at the door just long enough to kick off his boots and leave them just inside the door. The room was dim, Alice having lowered the shades and the streetlamp outside cast odd shadows on the blinds. On the lumpy bed was a bigger lump that Yuri knew would be Alice, and he tiptoed around the end of the bed to kneel at her side. One delicate hand hung limp and white from beneath the blanket, while the other one was tucked beneath her cheek, her lips barely parted as she breathed deeply in sleep. On his knees at her side, he leaned against the bed and touched the rounded mound of the blanket. She stirred slightly, moving her legs and one foot slid out from under the covers. Yuri smiled and captured the stockinged foot in his hands, gently pinching the toes; Alice moaned slightly, and tried to move her foot away.

Yuri smiled and climbed onto the bed, nestling close to Alice, putting one arm over her hip and around her belly. His fingers splayed wide, possessing her, and he nuzzled his chin close to her hair, breathing in her delicate perfume and the lingering aroma of pasta sauce. He let his eyes close and the closeness of her, whom he loved, lull him to sleep.

Sirens in the distance woke Yuri up after midnight and he looked around the darkened room. Next to him, the mounded blanket rose and fell with his wife's breathing and he bent down to nuzzle her beneath her hair. The smell of pasta sauce lingered still and he kissed her neck before rolling off the bed. Shoeless he crossed the floor, pulling up the sash and looking out over the street below. The street lamp was a wan yellow, flickering slightly before going completely dark, and Yuri looked up to see the lights going out around the neighborhood. The sirens wailing in the distance were warnings of the impending attacks from across the Channel, and Yuri strained to catch sight of any zeppelins above in the dark. Shadows moved around below with the night patrol and he moved back, pulling closed the curtains before turning back into the room.

It was a pity, he thought, that he couldn't do more to safeguard his adopted home, but he was one man and he doubted even using his fusions he would be able to stop the armies fighting across the channel in France and Belgium. The war raged on, and Yuri did his best to bring comfort and security to both his own wife, and to Koudelka and her kids; their aborted plans to go to America coming to an end at the start of the war. Each time they saw him, Halley had ideas about enlisting and each time Koudelka told him to wait. Yuri thought that was a pretty sensible thing over all, but doubted Halley would wait much longer – fighting and glory awaited any young man who went to war... at least, that's what the songs said. Yuri snorted and crossed back to the bed. Imagine thinking about war when he had a delectable confection lying beneath the blankets. _I'd much rather nibble on her than think about combat_, he thought.

He climbed back onto the lumpy bed and snuggled close to his wife, wishing she'd wake up so he could enjoy a little footsy with her. Smiling he pulled back the blanket and put his face to her breasts, those soft deliciously sensual breasts which gave so warmly beneath his chin, collapsing into her chest and breaking open to ooze rotten fluids and worms. Pulling back he watched as her body turned putrescent, blackening, her delicate lips pulling back in a rictus grin. One hand touched her swollen belly, pushing through as the flesh collapsed, plunging into the mire that had been her pregnancy. He pulled free suddenly, something moist and squirmy attached to his hand, the baby came with him, half-rotten, desiccated and malformed, and Yuri screamed, throwing himself off the bed. He reached the door and yanked it open, his screams echoing down the hall. Blindly he ran for the stairs and met Halley coming up.

Halley heard Yuri's scream and thought the older man was having nightmares again; he knew it happened occasionally, when he and Alice visited... sometimes more than once. The young magic user wondered what brought on these horrible dreams, but Yuri himself never commented. Now, however, now the wailing scream was louder than usual, and Halley left his warm bed, climbing the stairs in his bare feet. He met up with Yuri as he was plunging down the corridor and, without thinking, bunched up his fist and cold cocked him as he hit the stairs. Yuri stopped, dizzy, and sat down hard on the floor.

"What the fuck?" he looked up as Halley moved up and sat next to him. "Did you just hit me?" he asked.

Halley nodded. "You were screaming your fool head off. Didn't want you to disturb the kids," he said.

Yuri rubbed his jaw, looking aside at the younger man. Halley had grown up a lot these last months; still a teenager, he had put on inches and now came up to Yuri's shoulder. He'd filled out some in the chest too, and Yuri thought he'd turn out a fine fighter one day... if Yuri didn't kill him first.

"What am I doin' in the hall?" he asked.

Halley shrugged. "Having a nightmare, I figure. Or fighting a fusion soul or - just bein' an ass."

Yuri smirked, threatening to punch the London Rat and the two traded mock blows while Yuri tried to make sense of what had happened. He was sleeping, next to Alice. And then... he woke up and saw his beautiful wife...

"Ah fuck, Alice!" he exclaimed and, scrambling to his feet, ran back down the hall to the bedroom. He crashed through the door and ran to the bed, falling to his knees even as he grabbed the blanket and swept it away. There, lying curled much as he had left her, was Alice, her breathing was slow and her eyelids flickered in dreams.

"Oh thank god," he groaned and put his head on her belly, his arms gathering her in to his embrace.

Finding herself suddenly smothered, Alice came awake with a start, her stocking-clad feet kicking out and her hands slapping at whatever was holding her. Yuri ignored it, and simply pulled her gently toward him, muttering endearments.

"Yuri? What – what is it? Is everything all right?" Alice asked, once her initial panic had subsided and she realized that the unyielding bands were Yuri's muscular arms.

Yuri looked up into Alice's face, her eyes bright in the darkness, their internal light glowing. "I had a bad dream is all," he said, his chest tight and his voice tighter.

"Well," she pushed against him, "that's all well, but I can't breath. Let me up."

Yuri quickly released her and Alice did a quick tuck and tug on her clothing, pulling her legs free of the blanket and standing up. Her stockings fell down around her ankles and she leaned on Yuri's shoulder, letting him remove them.

"Be careful; they're hard to replace with the war and all," she said but then nodded when he carefully folded them and put them on the bedside table.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked and Alice nodded. "Just let me sit in the chair. May we have some light?" she asked as she settled in the chair by the window.

"Nah, there's sirens outside. But I can pull open the curtains," and he did, letting in starlight to dance on the ratty carpet, before kneeling at her feet. "Let me," he said and lifted up one foot, began to gently rub the toes and arch.

Alice wiggled her toes and sighed.

"Oh, that feels wonderful. You really can be so sweet when you want to be," she said and let the silence remain as he finished the one foot and moved on to the other. Finally she asked, "Why were you holding me so tightly before? Did something happen?"

Yuri shook his head, keeping it down so his eyes were hidden.

"Nah, I just… wanted to hold you."

"Is that why Halley stood at our door for five minutes then? Because you wanted to hold me?"

Yuri looked up and caught her smile reflected in the starlight.

"Oh, you saw then."

"Yes."

Yuri sighed and sat back on his heels. "I had a bad dream is all." Alice didn't reply, waiting instead for her husband to continue. He looked up through his lashes, catching her patient expression. _Man, she is so beautiful, an' so patient with me. I don't deserve her sometimes_, he thought and fought the urge to hide behind an idiotic joke. "I had a bad dream an' I woke up screamin' in the hall. Halley an' me – we talked is all."

Alice nodded once, looking down at her disheveled husband. He had the shadowed look that told her he was hiding something, and was reluctant to tell her. "What did you dream?"

He waived one hand in front of his face, "Nothing really – well, nothing good. I don't wanna disturb you with it."

"_Tell_ me," she said and reached out, taking hold of one battle-roughened hand and holding it in her soft palm.

There were times he wished Alice weren't insistent and this was one of them. But he took a deep breath and briefly told her of his dream. "It's not just the dream though, babe, it's that it reminds me of something. I had a talk with Koudelka while you were napping and something she said – about how she knew to talk to me in China..." he shook his head. The visions he had in the kitchen, the nightmare he had in the lumpy bed... he felt they were related. He didn't know how, and he seldom gave thought to his weird dreams – he had nightmares since he was a kid – but these, these were all related to him and Alice. _Nothing will hurt my Alice_, he thought. _I'll protect her._

"I asked her how she knew to talk to me," he said. "An' she said I told her to... and then I suddenly got all dizzy and stuff started spinning around. I saw China again, and Shanghai an' I got dizzy with how it was moving and changin' around. And when it stopped, it really freaked me out. But then I had that dream and I thought I lost you and…" he stopped and reached up to her stomach, caressing the happy swelling with his hand.

Alice understood suddenly and reached out to run her fingers through his hair, pulling gently until he leaned forward, putting his cheek to her belly. She stroked his head, letting her finger trail down his neck and around his ears, and she could feel him relax, his arms snaking around her legs and he softly hummed, as if singing to her.

"I will never leave you, Yuri," she said softly and when he nodded, rubbing his face over her stomach, she had sudden inspiration. "We should decide what to name the baby."

"Ah, you can do that," he said to her stomach, and she laughed softly.

"All right, how about Ben," she began and he sat up with a start, grinning.

"You wouldn't dare," he said and laughed.

"Well, why don't you name him then," Alice suggested and watched in amazement as he put his face to her belly once more, his eyes open and dreamy. He remained there for long silent minutes, breathing and listening to her belly, hearing her heart beating so softly. She touched one tousled bang near his eyes and looked in startled wonder as his eyes shifted from amber to red and back, the focus gone for a brief moment before returning.

_What did he see_, she wondered.

"Yeah," he said finally, his voice soft. "I can do that," and he kissed her prominent stomach. "She's gonna be a beautiful girl. Katie. Her name is Katie," he said and Alice gasped, sensing beneath his words the ring of truth. He truly knew the child would be born female.

"Katie," she agreed.


End file.
